obligations at the period assigned–if, indeed, they ever pay at all. Commercial integrity is not here of so high an order as in older countries, where the great body of merchants have established a standard of rectitude, which individuals must not venture to transgress.
Another large branch of business is at places where the slave-trade is carried on; as at Gallinas and Wydah. Here, provisions, guns, powder, cotton cloths, and other goods, suitable for the purchase or subsistence of slaves, are sold at good prices for cash, or bills of exchange. The bills of Pedro Blanco, the notorious slave-dealer at Gallinas, on an eminent Spanish house in New York, and another in London, are taken as readily as cash. A large number of the vessels engaged in the African trade, whether English or American, do a considerable part of their business either with the slavers, or with natives settled at the slave-marts, and who, from their connection with the trade, have plenty of money. Some of the large English houses give orders to their captains and supercargoes not to traffic with men reputed to be slave-dealers; but, if a purchaser come with money in his hand, and offer liberal prices, it requires a tenderer conscience and sterner integrity than are usually met with, on the coast of Africa, to resist the temptation. The merchant at home, possibly, is supposed to know nothing of all this. It is quite an interesting moral question, however, how far either Old or New England can be pronounced free from the guilt and odium of the slave trade, while, with so little indirectness, they both share its profits and contribute essential aid to its prosecution.
The method of trade with the natives is more tedious than that with the colonists, and differs entirely in its character. On anchoring at a trade-place, it is necessary, first of all, to pay the King his “dash,” or present, varying in value from twenty dollars to seven or eight hundred. Such sums as the latter are paid only by ships of eight hundred or a thousand tons,–and in the great rivers, as Bonny or Calebar. The “dash” may be considered as equivalent to the duties levied on foreign imports, in civilized countries; and doubtless, as in those cases, the trader remunerates himself by an enhanced price upon his merchandize.
The King being “dashed” to his satisfaction, trade commences. The canoes bring off the articles which the natives have for sale; and the goods of the vessel are exhibited in return. At first, it is a slow process; either party offering little for the commodity of the other, and asking much for his own. But, in a few days, prices becoming established on both sides, business grows brisk, and flags only when one party has little more to exchange. Native agents are employed by the stranger; some being Kroomen attached to the vessel, and others trade-men, inhabiting the native towns. These men, in addition to their small regular pay, continually receive presents, which are necessary in order to excite their activity and zeal.
There is still another mode of trading, resorted to by many masters of vessels. They entrust quantities of goods–varying in value from a trifling sum up to a thousand dollars, or even more–to native trade-men. With these, or part of them, the trade-man goes into the interior, makes trade with the Bushmen, and brings the proceeds to his employer. These native agents are sometimes trusted with large amounts, for several months together, and not unfrequently give their principal great trouble in collecting his dues. Their families, to be sure, are held responsible, and the King is bound to enforce payment. Nevertheless, if so disposed, they can procrastinate, and finally cheat their creditor out of his debt; especially as the vessel cannot remain long upon the coast, awaiting the King’s tardy methods of compulsion.
On the Gold Coast, each vessel employs a native who is called its “gold-taker,” and is skilful in detecting spurious metal. The gold-dust is brought for sale, wrapped up in numerous coverings, to avoid waste. It is tested by acids; or, more commonly, by rubbing the gold on the “black-stone,” when the color of the mark, which it leaves upon the stone, decides the character of the metal. The gold, after its weight has been ascertained, is put by the captain into little barrels, holding perhaps half a pint, and with the top screwing tightly on. This “glittering dust” (to use the phrase which moralists are fond of applying to worldly pelf), commands from sixteen to eighteen dollars per ounce, in England and the United States. It is gathered from the sands which the rivers of Africa wash down from the golden mountains; and, when offered for sale, small lumps of gold and rudely manufactured rings are sometimes found among the dust–ornaments that have perhaps been worn by sable monarchs, or their sultanas, in the interior of the country.
In the ivory trade, small teeth (comprising all that weigh less than twenty pounds) are considered to be worth but half the price, per pound, that is paid for large teeth. From fifty cents to a dollar is the ordinary value of a pound of ivory. Some large teeth sell for a hundred dollars, or even a hundred and fifty. The sale of such a gigantic tusk, as may well be supposed, is considered an affair of almost national importance, and the bargain can only be adjusted through the medium of a “big palaver.” The trade in ivory is now on the decline; the demand in England and France not being so great as formerly, and America never having presented a good market for the article.
Palm-oil is brought from the interior, on the heads of the natives, in calabashes, containing two or three gallons each. In speaking of the interior, however, a comparatively short distance from the coast is to be understood. Gold, where great value is concentrated into small bulk, and some ivory, may occasionally come from remote regions; but the vast inland tracts of the African continent have little to do, either directly or indirectly, with the commerce of the civilized world.
In dealing with the natives, there was formerly a system much in vogue, but now going out of use, called the “round trade.” The method was, to offer one of each article; for instance, one gun, one cutlass, one flint, one brass kettle, one needle, and so on, from the commodity of greatest value down to the least. In all traffic there is a desire on the part of the native to obtain as great a variety as his means will compass. If the native commodity on sale be valuable, the captain offers two or more of his guns, cutlasses, flints, brass kettles, and needles; if it be small, and of trifling value, he perhaps exhibits only a flint and a needle as an equivalent. The native of course tries to get the most valuable, and the purchaser to pay the least. If the former demand a piece of cloth, and if it be refused by the captain, the native then asks what he will “room” it with. The captain, it may be, proposes to substitute a needle; and, after much talk, the troublesome bargain is thus brought to a point. English vessels usually have supercargoes; the Americans are seldom so provided. But the American captains, on the other hand, are respectable, intelligent, and trustworthy men, almost without exception. The exigencies of the trade require such men; and any defect, either of capacity or integrity, would soon be brought to light by the onerous duties and responsibilities imposed upon them. Great latitude must be allowed them, or the voyage cannot be expected to turn out profitably. They perform the double duty of master and supercargo, and perhaps with the more success, as there can be no disunion or difference of judgment. These captains are likewise often part owners of vessel and cargo.
Since the African coast has been made the cruising ground of an American squadron, the merchantmen have brought out stores, with the expectation of disposing of them to the ships of war. Some of these speculations have turned out very profitable; but now, when the Government understands and has made provisions for the wants of the station, this market is not to be relied upon. To the officers, indeed, there is a chance, though by no means a certainty, of selling mess-stores. The prices charged by merchantmen correspond with the scarcity of the article, and are sometimes enormous. I have known nine dollars a barrel asked for Irish, or rather Yankee potatoes, and have paid my share for a small quantity, at that rate. To those who see this vegetable daily on their tables, it may seem strange that men should value a potatoe five times as highly as an orange. After eating yams and cassada, however, for months together, one learns how to appreciate a mealy potatoe, the absence of which cannot be compensated by the most delicious of tropical fruits. Adam’s fare in Paradise might have been much improved, had Eve known how to boil potatoes; nor, perhaps, would the fatal apple have been so tempting.
CHAPTER XV.
Jack Purser’s wife–Fever on Board–Arrival at Cape Palmas–Strange Figure and Equipage of a Missionary–King George of Grand Bassam–Intercourse with the Natives–Tahon–Grand Drewin–St. Andrew’s–Picaninny Lahoo–Natives attacked by the French–Visit of King Peter–Sketches of Scenery and People at Cape Labon.
_March_ 30.–Got under way, at daylight, and stood down the coast.
I recollect nothing else, at Settra Kroo, that requires description, unless it be the person and garb of a native lady of fashion. Sitting with my friend Jack Purser, yesterday, a young woman came up, with a pipe in her mouth. A cloth around her loins, dyed with gay colors, composed her whole drapery, leaving her figure as fully exposed as the most classic sculptor could have wished. It is to be observed, however, that the sable hue is in itself a kind of veil, and takes away from that sense of nudity which would so oppress the eye, were a woman of our own race to present herself so scantily attired. The native lady in question was tall, finely shaped, and would have been not a little attractive, but for the white clay with which she had seen fit to smear her face and bosom. Around her ankles were many rows of blue beads, which also encircled her leg below the knee, thus supplying the place of garters, although stockings were dispensed with. Her smile was pleasant, and her disposition seemed agreeable; and, certainly, if the rest of Jack Purser’s wives (for this was one of the nine-and-twenty) be so well-fitted to make him happy, the sum total of his conjugal felicity must be enormous!
31.–Sunday. An oppressively hot day. There are three new cases of fever, making fourteen in all, besides sixteen or seventeen of other complaints. There is some apprehension that we are to have general sickness on board.
_April_ 1.–Off Cape Palmas. A canoe being sent ashore, returned with a letter from the Rev. Mr. Hazlehurst, stating that two missionaries wish for a passage to the Gaboon, and making so strong an appeal that the captain’s sympathies could not resist it. So we run in and anchor.
2.–Went ashore in the gig, and amused myself by reading the newspapers at the Governor’s, while the captain rode out to the mission establishment, at Mount Vaughan. During my stay, one of the new missionaries, a native of Kentucky, came in from Mount Vaughan, and rode up to the Government House, in country style. He was in a little wagon, drawn by eight natives, and sat bolt upright, with an umbrella over his head. The maligners of the priesthood, in all ages and countries, have accused them of wishing to ride on the necks of the people; but I never before saw so nearly literal an exemplification of the fact. In its metaphorical sense, indeed, I should be very far from casting such an imputation upon the zealous and single-minded missionary before me. He is a man of eminent figure, at least six feet and three inches high, with a tremendous nose, vast in its longitude and depth, but wonderfully thin across the edge. It was curious to meet, in Africa, a person so strongly imbued with the peculiarities of his section of our native land; for his manner had the real Western swing, and his dialect was more marked than is usual among educated men. With a native audience, however, this is a matter of no moment.
We were told that the Roman Catholics are about to leave Cape Palmas, and establish branches of their mission at the different French stations on the coast, under the patronage of Louis Philippe. The Presbyterians have all gone to the Gaboon river. The Episcopal Mission pines at Cape Palmas, and will probably be removed. The discord between its members and the Colonial Government continues with unabated bitterness. Mr. Hazlehurst regrets that the missionaries were identified with the colonists, in our great palaver with the four-and-twenty kings and headmen, at Cape Palmas. He believes, that, in case of any outbreak of the natives, the missionaries on the out stations would fall the first victims. His sentiments, it must be admitted, are such as it behoves a minister of religion to entertain, in so far as he would repudiate military force as an agent for sustaining the cause of missions.
We sailed at noon for the leeward without the missionaries, who declined taking passage, as it is doubtful whether the ship will proceed beyond Cape Coast Castle. We have now fifteen cases of fever, most of them mild in character. The prospect of sickness will cut short our leeward cruise.
4.–Off Tahoo. The natives have come on board, with fowls, ivory, and monkey-skins, to “make trade.” Tobacco is the article chiefly sought for in exchange. A large canoe came off, with a small English flag displayed, and a native in regimentals standing erect; a most unusual and inconvenient posture to be maintained in a canoe. Mounting the ship’s side, he proved to be no less a man than King George of Grand Bassam. His majesty wore a military frock trimmed with yellow, two worsted epaulettes on his shoulders, and an English hussar-cap on his head, with the motto FULGOR ET HONOS. A cloth around his loins completed his heterogeneous equipment. In the canoe was a small bullock, tied by the feet, together with several ducks, chickens, kids, and plantains. The bullock and one duck were presented to the captain by way of “dash;” always the most expensive mode of procuring provisions, for, unless you dash the donor to at least an equal extent, he will certainly importune you for more. King George remarked that the other articles in the canoe belonged to the boys, and were for sale. They refused to sell them, however, until the King, after eating and drinking his fill in the cabin, went out, and engaged in the traffic at once. The liquor brought out his real character; and this royal personage scolded and haggled like a private trader, and a sharp one too.
Having sold his stock, and received much more than its value, his majesty thought it not beneath his station to beg, and thus obtain divers odd things for his wardrobe and larder. When he could get no more, he finally took his leave, carrying off the remains of the food which had been set before him, without so much as an apology.
We have been running along that portion of the coast, where, three months ago, we burned the native towns. No attempt has yet been made to rebuild them, for fear of a second hostile visit from the ships; but the natives have indirectly applied to the Commodore for permission to do so, and it will probably be granted, on their pledging themselves to good behavior.
5.–At anchor off Grand Berebee. All day, the ship has been thronged with natives. They are civil at first, but almost universally display a bad trait of character, by altering their manners for the worse, in proportion to the kindness shown them. As they acquire confidence, they become importunate, and almost impudent. Every canoe brings something to sell. It is amusing to see these people paddling alongside with two or three chickens tied round their necks, and hanging down their backs, with an occasional flutter that shows them to be yet alive. Some of the kings hold umbrellas over their heads; rather, one would suppose, as a mark of dignity, than from a tender regard to their complexions. These umbrellas were afterwards converted into bags, to hold the bread which they received.
The weather has been cooler for two days, and the fever-patients are fast improving.
6.–This morning, our visitors of yesterday, and many more, came alongside, but only persons of distinction were admitted on board. Nevertheless, they suffice to crowd the deck. A war-canoe, with a king in it, paddled round the ship twice, all the men working for dear life, by way, I suppose, of contrasting their naval force with our own. All our guests, of whatever rank, come to trade or to beg; and it is curious to see how essentially their estimation of money differs from our own. Coin is almost unknown in the traffic of the coast, and it is only those who have been at Sierra Leone, or some of the colonial settlements, who are aware of its value. One “cut money,” or quarter of a dollar, is the smallest coin of which most of the natives have any idea. This is invariably the price of a fowl, when money is offered; but a head of tobacco or a couple of fish-hooks would be preferred. Empty bottles find a ready market. Yesterday, I “dashed” three or four great characters with a bottle each; all choosing ale or porter bottles in preference to an octagonal-sided one, used by “J. Wingrove and Co.” of London, in putting up their “Celebrated Raspberry Vinegar.” The chiefs must have consulted about it afterwards; for, this morning, no less than three kings and a governor, begged, as a great favor, that I would give them that particular bottle, and were sadly disappointed, on learning that it had been paid away for a monkey-skin. No other bottle would console them.
After the traffic is over, the begging commences; and they prove themselves artful as well as persevering mendicants. Sometimes they make an appeal to your social affections; “Massa, I be your friend!” The rascal has never seen you before, and would cut your throat for a pound of tobacco. Another seeks to excite your compassion: “My heart cry for a bottle of rum!” and no honest toper, who has felt what that cry is, can refuse his sympathy, even if he withhold the liquor. A third applicant addresses himself to your noble thirst for fame. “Suppose you dash me, I take your name ashore, and make him live there!” And certainly a deathless name, at the price of an empty bottle or a head of tobacco, is a bargain that even a Yankee would not scorn.
7.–We passed Tahoo in the night, and are now running along a more beautiful country. The land is high and woody, unlike the flat and marshy tracts that skirt the shores to windward. These are the Highlands of Drewin. The ship has been full of Grand Drewin people, who come to look about them, to beg, and to dispose of fowls, ducks, cocoa-nuts, and small canoes. They are the most noisy set of fellows on the coast.
8. We left Grand Drewin, and anchored at St. Andrew’s, six miles distant. The inhabitants, being at war with those of Grand Drewin, do not come off to us, apprehending that their enemies are concealed behind the ship. These tribes have been at war more than a year, and have made two expeditions, resulting in the death of two men on one side and three on the other. The army of Grand Drewin, having slain three, boasts much of its superior valor. It must be owned, that the absurdity of war, as the ultimate appeal of nations, becomes rather strikingly manifest, by being witnessed on a scale so ridiculously minute.
9.–A message having been sent in to inform the King of our character, three or four canoes came off to us. The inhabitants have little to sell compared with those of Grand Drewin. Indian corn, which does not flourish so well to windward, has been offered freely at both places, in the ear.
I went ashore, in company with four other officers. The bar is difficult, and, in rough weather, must be dangerous. A broad bay opens on your sight, as soon as the narrow and rocky mouth of the river is passed. Two large streams branch off, and lose themselves among the high trees upon their banks. A number of cocoa-nut trees, on the shore, made a thick shade for fifteen or twenty soldiers, who loitered about, or sat, or lay at length upon the ground, watching against the approach of the enemy. Some held muskets in their hands; others had rested their weapons against the trunks of the trees. We were first conducted to the residence of King Queah, who received us courteously, regaled us with palm-wine, and inflicted a duck upon us by way of “dash.” The wine, in a capacious gourd, was brought out, and placed in the centre of the large open space, where we sat. The King, his headman, and his son, all drank first, in order to prove that the liquor was not poisonous; a ceremony which makes one strongly sensible of being among people, who have no very conscientious regard for human life. The mug was then refilled, and passed to us.
On the walls of the house there were fresco-paintings, evidently by a native artist, rudely representing persons and birds. The most prominent figures were the King, seated in a chair, and seven wives standing in a row before him, most of them with pipes in their mouths. Black, red, and white, were apparently the only colors that the painter’s palette supplied. The groundwork was the natural color of the clay, which had been plastered upon the wall of wicker-work.
There seem to be two crowned heads at this place, reminding one of the two classic Kings of Brentford; for, after leaving King Queah, we were led to the house of another sovereign, styled King George. The frequent occurrence of this latter name, indicates the familiarity between the natives and the English. His Majesty received us in state; that is to say, chairs were placed for the visitors, and the King, with a black hat on his head, looked dignified. I was so fortunate as to make a favorable impression on his principal wife, by means of an empty bottle and a head of tobacco, which she was pleased to accept at my hands in the most gracious manner. Though probably fifty years of age, she had beautified herself, and concealed the touch of time by streaks of soot carefully laid on over her face and body.
The houses of each family are enclosed within bamboo walls, sometimes to the number of eight or ten huts in one of these insulated hamlets. They are generally wretched hovels, and of the simplest construction, merely a thatched roof, like a permanent umbrella, with no lower walls, and no ends. Altogether, the dwellings and their inhabitants looked miserable enough. The tribe has the reputation of being treacherous and cruel, and the aspect of the people is in accordance with their character.
I purchased a man’s cloth, of native manufacture. It is said to be made of the bark of a tree, pounded together so as to be strong and durable. I also procured a hank of fine white fibre of the pine-apple leaf. Of this material the natives make strong and beautiful fishing-lines, and other cords. Before being twisted it has the appearance of hemp.
11.–We anchored, last evening, at Picaninny Lahoo. Only one canoe has come off to us. The natives are shy of all strange vessels, in consequence of a French man-of-war having fired upon one of the neighboring towns, a few days since. It seems that a French merchant-barque was wrecked here, by running ashore. The master saved his gold and personal property, and he and the crew were kindly treated; but the vessel and cargo were plundered, in accordance with the custom of the African coast, as well as of countries that boast more of their civilisation. Nevertheless, the captain of the French man-of-war demanded restitution, and kept up a fire upon the town for several successive days. An English merchant-vessel, lying there at the time, protested against the cannonade, and threatened to report the French captain to Lord Stanley!–on the plea that his measures of hostility prevented the natives from engaging in trade.
In fact, these masters of English merchant-vessels would probably consider the interruption of trade as the greatest of all offences against human rights. We boarded a brig of that nation to-day, and found her full of natives, with whom a very brisk business was going forward. Some brought palm-oil, and others gold, which they exchanged principally for guns, cloth, and powder. We here saw the gold tested by the “blackstone;” a peculiar kind of mineral, black, with a slight tinge of blue. If, when the gold is rubbed upon this stone, it leaves a reddish mark, it is regarded as a satisfactory proof of its purity; otherwise, there is more or less alloy. The trader is obliged to depend upon the judgment and integrity of a native in his employ, who is skilful in trying gold. The average profit, acquired by the foreign traders in their dealings with the natives, is not less than a hundred per cent. on the principal articles, and much more on the smaller ones. No inconsiderable portion of this, however, is absorbed by the numerous “dashes;” in the first place, to the king, then to the head trade-men, the canoe-men, and all others whose agency can anywise influence the success of the business.
The masters or supercargoes of English vessels receive, besides their regular pay of six pounds per month, a commission of five per cent. on all sales; they being responsible for any debts which they may allow the natives to contract.
12.–Ashore at Cape Lahon, the scene of the recent hostilities between the French and the natives. We landed in large heavy canoes, flat-bottomed and square-sided. The town is built upon a narrow point of land between the sea and a lake, just at the outlet of two rivers. On the side next the sea, you discern only the bamboo walls of the town, and a few cocoa-nut trees, scattered along the sandy beach; but on the lake side, there is one of the loveliest views imaginable. The quiet lake and its wooded islands; the thousand of green cocoa-nut trees, laden with fruit, and shadowing all the shore; the rivers, broad and dark, stretching away on either hand, until lost among the depths of the forest, which doubtless extends into the mysterious heart of Africa; the canoes, returning along these majestic streams with people who had fled; the hundreds of natives who reclined in the shade, or clustered around a fountain in the sand, or busied themselves with the canoes;–all contributed to form a picture which was very pleasant to our eyes, long wearied as we were with the sight of ocean and sky, and the dreary skirts of the sea-shore. It was an hour of true repose, while we lay in the shadow of the trees, and drank the cool milk of cocoa-nuts, which the native boys plucked and opened for us.
I should have narrated, in the first place, our visit to King Peter, who rules over this beautiful spot. He held his court under an awning of palm-leaves, in an area of more than a hundred feet square, around the sides of which were the little dwellings that, conjointly, composed his palace. The King received us with dignity and affability; and probably not less than two hundred of his subjects were collected in the area, to witness the interview; for it was to them a matter of national importance. They are exceedingly anxious to adjust their difficulties with the French, and hope to interest us as mediators. By their own history of the affair, which was laid before us at great length, they appear to have been only moderately to blame, and to have suffered a great deal of mischief. King Quashee and nine men were killed, and fifty or sixty houses burnt, besides other damage.
These people are a fine-looking race, well formed, and with very pleasing countenances. At our first arrival the women were all at the plantations, in the interior, whither they had fled when our ship came in sight, apprehending her to be French. Towards evening, they returned to the village, and afforded us an opportunity to see and talk with them. They are the handsomest African dames with whom I have formed an acquaintance, and the most affable. It grieves me to add, that, like all their countrymen and countrywomen, they are importunate beggars, and seem greatly to prefer the fiery liquors of the white man to their own mild palm-wine and cocoa-nut milk. One of our party offered rum to the eight young wives of Tom Beggree, our trade-man; and every soul of them tossed off her goblet without a wry face, though it was undiluted, and thirty-three per cent. above proof.
As at other places, each family resides in a separate enclosure, which is larger or smaller, according to the number of houses required. Domestic harmony is in some degree provided for, by allotting a separate residence to each wife. There is a courtyard before most of the enclosures, after traversing which, you enter a spacious square, and perceive neatly built houses on all four of its sides. They are constructed of bamboo-cane placed upright, and united by cross-pieces of the same, strongly sewed together with thongs of some tough wood. Some of the floors are not untastefully paved with small pebbles, intermingled with white shells. Doors there are none, the entrance being through the windows, in order to keep out the pigs and sheep, which abound in the enclosures. The streets or passages through the town are about five feet wide, and are bordered on either side by the high bamboo wall of some private domain. The settlement extends more than a mile in length, and is the largest and best-built that I have yet had the good fortune to see on the coast of Africa.
CHAPTER XVI.
Visit from two English Trading-Captains–The Invisible King of Jack-a-Jack–Human Sacrifices–French Fortresses at Grand Bassam, at Assinee, and other points–Objections to the Locality of Liberia–Encroachments on the Limits of that Colony–Arrival at Axim–Sketches of that Settlement–Dix Cove–Civilized Natives–An Alligator.
_April_ 14.–Under way from Cape Lahon at daylight. All the morning, there were light breezes and warm air; but a fine sea-breeze set in, in the afternoon, and brought us, at seven o’clock, to anchor at “Grand Jack,” or “Jack-a-Jack.” The distributors of names along this coast deserve no credit for their taste. The masters of two English merchantmen came on board and spent the evening. One of them was far gone with a consumption; the other was, in his own phrase, a “jolly cock,” and seemed disposed to make himself amusing; in pursuance of which object he became very drunk, before taking his departure. Englishmen, in this station of life, do not occupy the same social rank as with us, and, consequently, have seldom the correct and gentlemanly manners of our own ship-masters. The master of an English merchant-vessel would hardly be considered a fit guest for either the cabin or ward-room of a British man-of-war.
These masters informed us that they had paid three hundred dollars each, for the king’s “dash,” at this place; in addition to which, every merchant-captain must pay eight dollars on landing, and if from Bristol, twenty-four dollars. This distinction is in consequence of a Bristol captain having shot a native, some years ago; and when the palaver was settled, the above amount of blood-money was imposed upon all ship-masters from the same place. Our two visitors have now been here for months, and will remain for months longer, without once setting foot on shore; partly to avoid incurring the impost on landing, partly from caution against the natives, and partly to keep their business secret. The jealousy between the traders is very great. Those from Bristol, Liverpool, and London, all are in active competition with each other, and with any foreigner who may come in their way; and their policy may truly be described as Machiavelian, in its mystery, craft, and crookedness. The business requires at least as long an apprenticeship as the diplomacy of nations, and a new hand has but little chance among these sharp fellows.
15.–Some canoes from the shore have been off to us. We learn from them, that there is to be a great annual festival today; on which occasion the king, who has been secluded from the sight of his subjects for eight years, will shine forth again, “like a re-appearing star.” There is something very provocative to the imagination in this circumstance. What can have been the motive of such a seclusion? was it in the personal character of the king, and did he shut himself up to meditate on high matters, or to revel in physical indulgence? or, possibly, to live his own simple life, untrammelled by the irksome exterior of greatness? or was it merely a trick of kingcraft, in order to deify himself in the superstition of his people, by the awfulness of an invisible presence among them? Be the secret what it may, it would be interesting to observe the face of the royal hermit, at the moment when the sunshine and the eyes of his subjects first fall upon it again. The inhabitants from many miles around have come to witness and participate in the ceremonies. There are to be grand dances, and all manner of festivity; and one of the English captains informed us that he had sold a thousand gallons of rum, within a fortnight, to be quaffed at this celebration.
There is another circumstance that may give the festival a darker interest. It is customary, on such occasions, to sacrifice one or two slaves, who are generally culprits reserved for this anniversary. The natives on board deny that there will be any such sacrifice, but admit that a palaver will be held over a slave, who had attempted to escape. Should it be so, the poor wretch will stand little chance for mercy at the hands of these barbarians, frenzied with rum, and naturally blood-thirsty. We are all anxious to go on shore, to see the ceremonies, and try to save the destined victim; or, if better may not be, to witness the thrilling spectacle of a human sacrifice, which, being partly a religious rite, is an affair of a higher order than one of our civilized executions. But our captain has heard of an English vessel ashore and in distress, a day’s sail below, and is hastening to their assistance. While taking our departure, therefore, we can only turn our eyes towards the shore, where a large town is visible, clustered under the shelter of a cocoa-nut grove.
16.–At 7 A.M., we are passing Grand Bassam, seven or eight miles from land. Our track just touches the outer edge of the semicircular line of dirty foam, indicating the distance to which the influence of the river extends. Within the verge, the water is discolored by recent contact with the earth; beyond it, ripples the uncontaminated, pure, blue ocean. One is the emblem of human life, muddied with base influences; the other, of eternity, which is only not transparent because of its depth.
Grand Bassam is one of the many places on the coast, where the French have recently established forts, and raised their flag. Three large houses are visible. The one in the centre seems to be the military residence and stronghold; the other two are long buildings, one story high, and are probably used as storehouses. A picket-fence surrounds the whole. At Assinee, likewise, which is now in sight, there is another French fort, consisting of a block-house and two store-houses, encompassed by pickets. The French government are also fortifying other points along the coast, in the most systematic manner. The general plan is, a block-house in the centre, with long structures extending from each angle, two for barracks, and two for trading-houses; the whole enclosed within a stockade. They are imposing establishments, and constructed with an evident view to durability. It is said that all but French vessels are to be prohibited from trading within range of their guns, and that a man-of-war is to be stationed at each settlement. The captain of a Bremen brig informed me, that the Danes are about to sell their fort at Accra to the French; he gave as his authority the single Danish officer remaining at Accra.
It is perhaps to be regretted that the colonies of Liberia were not originally planted in the fertile territory along which we have recently sailed, and which other nations are now pre-occupying. Liberia does not appear to possess so rich a soil as most other parts of the coast; there is more sand, and more marsh, above than below Cape Palmas. But the country between Cape Palmas and Axim is inhabited by cruel, warlike, and powerful tribes; and a colony would need more strength than Liberia has ever yet possessed, to save it from destruction. From Axim to Accra, there is a chain of forts which have been held by different European nations, for centuries; nearly all the coast is claimed by these foreigners; while the interior is occupied by such powerful kingdoms as those of Ashantee and Dahomey. On these accounts, the tract now called Liberia (extending about three hundred miles, from Cape Mesurado to Cape Palmas) was the most open for the purposes of colonization. Even within the limits just named, however, both France and England have recently betrayed a purpose of effecting settlements. It is to be hoped that these nations will hereafter transfer their titles to Liberia. Their policy doubtless is, to hold the country for its exclusive trade, or until they can obtain advantageous terms of commercial intercourse with the colonists and natives. The attention of the Society at home, as well as of the Liberian government, is now fully awake to the importance of securing territory. They are aware, that, without vigorous and prompt measures to extinguish the native title to the country between Monrovia and Cape Palmas, foreign nations will occupy the intermediate positions, and cause much embarrassment hereafter.
17.–At Assinee. We boarded a French brig-of-war, the Eglantine, last evening, and learned that the vessel, which ran ashore here, had gone to pieces; so that all our hurry was of no avail.
Sailed at 9 A.M. for Axim.
18.–Last night, we had thunder, lightning, wind, and rain. There are showers and small tornadoes, almost every night, succeeded by clear and pleasant days. We are now in sight of Cape-Three-Points, and the fort at Axim. It is pleasant, after the monotonous aspect of the shore to windward, to see a coast with deep indentations and bold promontories. The fort at Axim has a commanding appearance, and the country in the vicinity has a decidedly New-England look.
19.–Ashore at Axim, where we met with some features of novelty. The fort here is really an antique castle, having been built by the Portuguese so long ago as 1600, and taken from them by its present possessors, the Dutch, in 1639. It is of stone, built upon scientific principles, with embrasures for cannon and loop-holes for musketry. The walls are four feet thick, and capable of sustaining the assault of ten thousand natives. The fortress is three stories high, the basement story being widest, and each of the others diminishing in proportion, and surrounded by a terrace. The two lower departments are intended for the cannon and the mass of the defenders; while the Governor occupies the upper as his permanent residence, and may there fortify himself impregnably, even if an enemy should possess the fort below–unless, indeed, they should blow him into the air.
The country claimed by the Dutch, extends about thirty miles along the coast, and twenty miles into the interior, with a population estimated at about ten thousand. They seem–particularly those who reside in the villages beneath the fortress–to be entirely under the control of their European masters, and to live comfortably, and be happy in their condition. The natives possess slaves; and there are also many “pawns,” of a description seldom offered to the pawnbrokers in other parts of the world; namely, persons who have pledged the services of themselves and family to some creditor, until the debt be paid. It is a good and forcible illustration of the degradation which debt always implies, though it may not always be outwardly visible, as here at Axim. The Governor himself, who is a native of Amsterdam, and apparently a mulatto, is one of those pawn-brokers who deal in human pledges. He is a merchant-soldier, bearing the military title of lieutenant, and doing business as a trader. The Governor of El Mina is his superior officer, and the fort at Axim is garrisoned by twelve black soldiers from the former place. War has existed for several years between these Dutch settlements and their powerful neighbor, the king of Appollonia, who is daily expected to attack the fortress. In that event, the people in the neighboring villages would take refuge within the walls, and there await the result.
The native houses are constructed in the usual manner, of small poles and bamboo, plastered over with clay, and thatched. They might be kept comfortable if kept in repair, but are mostly in a wretched state, although thronged with occupants. The proportion of women, as well as children, appears larger than in other places; and they wear a greater amplitude of apparel than those of their sex on the windward coast, covering their persons from the waist to the knee, and even lower. The most remarkable article of dress is one which I have vaguely understood to constitute a part of the equipment of my own fair countrywomen–in a word, the veritable bustle. Among the belles of Axim, there is a reason for the excrescence which does not exist elsewhere; for the little children ride astride of the maternal bustle, which thus becomes as useful, as it is unquestionably ornamental. Fashion, however, has evidently more to do with the matter than convenience; for old wrinkled grandams wear these beautiful anomalies, and little girls of eight years old display protuberances that might excite the envy of a Broadway belle. Indeed, fashion may be said to have its perfect triumph and utmost refinement, in this article; it being a positive fact, that some of the Axim girls wear merely the bustle, without so much as the shadow of a garment. Its native name is “tarb koshe.”
Axim is said to be perfectly healthy, there being no marshes in the vicinity. The soil is fertile and the growth luxuriant. There is a fine well of water, from which ships may be supplied abundantly and easily, though not cheaply. The landing place is protected by small islands and reefs, which break the force of the swell; so that boats may land with as much safety and as little difficulty as in a river. One of our boats, nevertheless, with fifteen or sixteen persons on board, ran on a rock and bilged, in attempting to go ashore. All were happily saved by canoes from the beach. There is a great abundance of pearl-shells to be found along the shore, not valuable, but pretty.
The currency here is gold dust, which passes from hand to hand as freely as coin bearing the impress of a monarch or a republic. The governor’s weights for gold are small beans; a brown one being equivalent to a dollar, and a red one to fifty cents.
22.–Ashore; and spent most of the day in the fortress; one of the cool places of Africa. Situated on a high, rocky point of land, with the sea on three sides, every breeze that stirs, however lightly, is sure to be felt on the terraces of the castle of Axim; and they bring coolness even at noontide, being tempered by the spray constantly rising from the waves that dash against the rocks below.
There is great difficulty in procuring any supplies here, except wood and water, and those at a high rate–seven dollars per cord for the former, and one dollar for each hundred gallons of the latter; this, too, including only the filling of the casks, and rolling them a short distance on the beach. We found it impossible to purchase bullocks, sheep, or pigs, and but very little poultry. The governor explained, that several men-of-war had recently visited the settlement, and taken all the live stock that could be spared, and that the war with Appollonia had cut off the large supply formerly drawn from that country. The natives at this place cannot furnish vessels with supplies, unless by the governor’s express permission; which, it is said, he does not grant, except upon condition that they expend the proceeds in purchasing goods from him. One of our stewards bought a roasting-pig, on shore; and the fact coming to the ears of Governor Rhule, he notified the people that there would be a palaver after our departure, for the discovery of the offender. The fine for a transgression of this kind is two ounces of gold, or thirty-two dollars. Let us imagine a village storekeeper, in our own country, possessing supreme control over all the traffic of his neighbors–and we shall have an idea of the relative position of the Governor of Axim and the natives. Moreover, he is the general arbitrator, _ex officio_, and expects that all awards shall be paid in cash, and that the successful party spend the amount at his shop.
We learned from Governor Rhule, that the Dutch government, some years ago, had sent agents from El Mina to Comassee, the capital of Ashantee, for the purchase of slaves, to be employed in the wars between the Dutch East India settlements and the natives of that region. Three thousand were thus purchased, at forty dollars each, and transported to Batavia. Perhaps no circumstance, possible to be conceived, could do more to strip war of its poetry, than such a fact; and yet it is in good keeping with the character of a shrewd, commercial, business-like people, endowed with more common sense than chivalry or sensibility. A British general, in order to carry on an expedition against a French colony, once entered into a similar speculation; but it was indignantly annulled by his government. In the present case, the exportation of slaves, to fight the battles of their masters, ceased only two or three years since, on the termination of the war. These servile soldiers continued in Batavia, except a few wounded ones, who have been sent back to El Mina, and now reside there on pensions.
Between Axim and Accra, both inclusive, there are six Dutch forts now occupied and in repair, besides several which have been abandoned. I was told that the annual cost of these establishments, to the home-government, is not more than twenty thousand dollars; most of their expenses being defrayed by duties, port-charges and other revenue accruing on the spot.
24.–We left Axim yesterday, and anchored, last night, off the British settlement at Dixcove. This morning, while heaving up the anchor, a boat came off from the schooner Edward Burley of Bevaley, requesting assistance, as her spars had been shivered by lightning. Soon after, the commandant of the fort came on board, in a large and handsome canoe, paddled by ten or twelve natives. The passengers sit in the bows, using chairs or stools for seats, and protected from the surf and spray by the high sides of the canoe. We dined on shore with the Governor, Mr. Swansey, at his new residence, in the cool and refreshing atmosphere of a high hill. The house is handsomely furnished in the English style. Mr. Swansey has resided ten years on the coast, and was one of the persons examined before the Committee of Parliament in reference to the state and affairs of this region. There is a circumstance that connects this gentleman, though but slightly, with poetic annals. Being at Cape Coast Castle at the time of Mrs. McLean’s death, he was one of the inquest that examined into that melancholy event. His account confirms the general impression, that her death was unpremeditated, and caused by an accidental over-dose of prussic-acid, which she was in the habit of taking for spasms. She was found alone, and nearly dead, behind the door of her apartment. Alas, poor L.E.L.! It was certainly a strange and wild vicissitude of fate that made it the duty of this respectable African merchant, in company with men of similar fitness for the task, to “sit” upon the body–say, rather, on the heart–of a creature so delicate, impassioned, and imaginative.
The native houses here are quite large; three or four being two stories high, with balconies, built of stone, in the Spanish style. They are furnished with sofas, bedsteads, and pictures. One elderly native received us in a calico surtout, and gave us ale. Another wore the native garb, with the long cloth folded around him and resting upon his shoulder, like a Roman toga. He offered champagne, Madeira, gin, brandy, ale, and cigars, and pressed us to partake, with a dignified and elegant hospitality. This was Mr. Brace. He had a clerk (of native blood, but dressed in cap, jacket, and pantaloons, in the English style), who spoke good English, and was very gentlemanly. It is interesting to meet the natives of Africa at so advanced a stage of refinement, yet retaining somewhat of their original habits and character, which is of course entirely lost in the Liberian colonists.
25.–Spent the morning on shore, at the government-house, reading the English newspapers, and enjoying the coolness of the position and the society of the intelligent governor. I was interested in observing an alligator, inhabiting a fresh-water pond, on the edge of the town. A chicken being held out to him as a lure, he came out of the pond and snapped at it, making a loud, startling noise with his teeth. He had entirely emerged from his native element, and remained some fifteen minutes on land, during which time he snapped five or six times at the fowl, which was as often drawn away by a string. At length, seizing his prey, he plunged with it into the water, dived, swam across the pond, and rose to the surface on the other side, where he masticated his breakfast, at his leisure. Three alligators inhabit this pond, and being regarded as “fetishes,” or charmed and sacred creatures, are never injured by the natives. On their part, the amphibious monsters seem to cherish amicable feelings towards the human race, and allow children to bathe and sport in the pond, without injury or molestation. The reptile that I saw was seven or eight feet long, with formidable teeth and scales.
Instead of the cassada and rice of the windward coast, corn is here the principal food. After being pounded in their long mortars, it is ground fine, by hand, between two stones like those used by painters, and is mixed with palm-wine.
28.–Having repaired the American schooner, and supplied her with one of our spare topmasts, we are ready to sail to-day.
CHAPTER XVII.
Dutch Settlement at El Mina–Appearance of the Town–Cape Coast Castle–Burial-place of L. E. L.–An English Dinner–Festivity on Ship-board–British, Dutch, and Danish Accra–Native Wives of Europeans–A Royal Princess–An Armadillo–Sail for St. Thomas–Aspect of the Island.
_April_ 29.–At 10 A.M., anchored off the Dutch settlement of El Mina. The Governor’s lieutenant boarded us in a large canoe, paddled by about a score of blacks. A salute was fired by our ship, and returned from the castle with a degree of splendor quite unexpected; for a portion of the native town, situated beneath the castle-walls, was set on fire by the wad of a cannon, and twenty or thirty houses burnt to the ground. On landing, we received a message, intimating that the Governor would be glad to see us, and consequently called upon him. He is a man of about thirty, who came out in 1832, as a clerk, and has risen to be Governor, with the military rank of lieutenant-colonel. All the civil officers have military titles, and wear the corresponding uniforms, for effect upon the natives; but the Dutch evince their shrewdness by placing practical men of business, rather than soldiers, at the head of their colonial establishments. The only officer of the regular army is a lieutenant, commanding the guard, of one hundred men.
El Mina–the Mine–was built in 1482, or thereabouts, by the Portuguese, whose early navigators have left tokens of their enterprise all along this coast; although the achievements of those adventurous men do but illustrate the nation’s present supineness and decay. The settlement was taken by the Dutch about a century after its foundation. The main fortress is extensive, mounting ninety guns, and is capable of withstanding the assault of a large force of regular troops. On an eminence, above the town, is a second fort, apparently strong and in good repair; and two small batteries are placed in commanding situations.
The houses in the town are built of stone, and thatched. The streets are narrow, crooked, and dirty, imparting to the place the air of intricate bewilderment of some of the old European cities. Much of the trade is done in the streets, and entirely by women, who sit with their merchandize on the ground before them, and their gold-scales in their laps, waiting for customers. It would perhaps add to our manliness of character, if at least the minor departments of traffic were resigned to the weaker sex, among ourselves. Crossing a small river, we came to another, and by far the best section, of the town. There are long, wide streets, two of which, meeting at an obtuse angle, form together an extent of nearly a mile. A double row of trees throw their shade over the central walk of this Alameda. At intervals are seated groups of women-traders. The wares of some are deposited upon the ground, while pieces of cloth are displayed to advantage upon lines, stretching from tree to tree.
Before returning on board, we bespoke rings and chains of a native goldsmith. The fashions of Africa are less evanescent than those of Europe; and we may expect to see such ornaments as glittered on the bosom of the Queen of Sheba.
_May_ 2.–Sailed for Cape Coast Castle with the evening breeze.
3.–At Cape Coast Castle.
The landing is effected in large canoes, which convey passengers close to the rocks, safely and without being drenched, although the surf dashes fifty feet in height. There is a peculiar enjoyment in being raised, by an irresistible power beneath you, upon the tops of the high rollers, and then dropped into the profound hollow of the waves, as if to visit the bottom of the ocean, at whatever depth it might be. We landed at the castle-gate, and were ushered into the castle itself, where the commander of the troops received us in his apartment.
I took the first opportunity to steal away, to look at the burial-place of L.E.L., who died here, after a residence of only two months, and within a year after becoming the wife of Governor McLean. A small, white marble tablet (inserted among the massive grey stones of the castle-wall, where it faces the area of the fort) bears the following inscription:–
Hic jacet sepultum
Omne quod mortale fuit
LETITIAE ELISABETHAE McLEAN,
Quam, egregia ornatam indole,
Musis unice amatam;
Omniumque amores secum trahentem, In ipso aetatis flore,
Mors immatura rapuit,
Die Octobris XV., A.D. MDCCCXXXVIII, Atat 36.
* * * * *
Quod spectas viator marmor,
Vanum heu doloris monumentum,
Conjux moereng erexit.
The first thought that struck me was the inappropriateness of the spot for a grave, and especially for the grave of a woman, and, most of all, a woman of poetic temperament. In the open area of the fort, at some distance from the castle-wall, the stone pavement had been removed in several spots, and replaced with plain tiles. Here lie buried some of the many British officers who have fallen victims to the deadly atmosphere of this region; and among them rests L.E.L. Her grave is distinguishable by the ten red tiles which cover it. Daily, the tropic sunshine blazes down upon the spot. Daily, at the hour of parade, the peal of military music resounds above her head, and the garrison marches and counter-marches through the area of the fortress, nor shuns to tread upon the ten red tiles, any more than upon the insensible stones of the pavement. It may be well for the fallen commander to be buried at his post, and sleep where the reveille and roll-call may be heard, and the tramp of his fellow-soldiers echo and re-echo over him. All this is in unison with his profession; the drum and trumpet are his perpetual requiem; the soldier’s honorable tread leaves no indignity upon the dead warrior’s dust. But who has a right to trample on a woman’s breast? And what had L.E.L. to do with warlike parade? And wherefore was she buried beneath this scorching pavement, and not in the retired shadow of a garden, where seldom any footstep would come stealing through the grass, and pause before her tablet? There, her heart, while in one sense it decayed, would burst forth afresh from the sod in a profusion of spontaneous flowers, such as her living fancy lavished throughout the world. But now, no verdure nor blossom will ever grow upon her grave.
If a man may ever indulge in sentiment, it is over the ashes of a woman whose poetry touched him in his early youth, while he yet cared anything about either sentiment or poetry. Thus much, the reader will pardon. In reference to Mrs. McLean, it may be added, that, subsequently to her unhappy death, different rumors were afloat as to its cause, some of them cruel to her own memory, others to the conduct of her husband. All these reports appear to have been equally and entirely unfounded. It is well established here, that her death was accidental.
We dined at the castle to-day, and met the officers of a new English brig, the Sea-Lark, among whom I was happy to recognize Lieutenant B—-, an acquaintance at Mahon, and a messmate of my friend C—-. All these officers are gallant fellows; and the commencement of our acquaintance promises to place them and ourselves on the most cordial terms. The dinner, like other English dinners, was rather noisy, but rendered highly agreeable by the perfect good feeling that prevailed. At eight in the evening, we returned on board, though strongly urged to sleep on shore by the Governor and all our other friends. Such hospitality, though unquestionably sincere, and kindly meant, it was far better to decline than accept; for it was much the same as if Death, in the hearty tone of good-fellowship, had pressed us to quaff another cup and spend the night under his roof. Had we complied, it would probably have cost the lives of more than one of us. Our captain took wisdom by the sad experience of the English brig, which had lost her purser and master by just such a festivity, prolonged to a late hour, and finished by the officers passing the night on shore. The fever of the climate punished their imprudence.
All vessels, except those of our own navy, allow their officers to sleep on shore. They expect to be taken sick, but hope that the first attack of fever will season them. Possibly, this is as wise a course as the British officers could adopt; for, unlike ourselves, they are compelled by duty to trust themselves in pestiferous situations, particularly in the ascent of rivers, where there is scarcely a chance of escaping the deadly influence of the atmosphere. They therefore confront the danger at once, and either fall beneath it, or triumph over it.
4.–Governor McLean, and all the officers of the castle and brig, dined on board. The table was laid on the quarter-deck, and was the scene of much mirth and friendly sentiment. In the evening, the theatre was open, with highly respectable performances; after which came a supper; and the guests took their leave at midnight, apparently well-pleased.
6.–We sailed yesterday from Cape Coast Castle, and anchored to-day at Accra, abreast of the British and Dutch forts.
7.–Early this morning, we were surrounded with canoes, filled with articles for sale. The most remarkable were black monkey-skins. There are seven vessels at anchor here, including our own, and an English war-steamer. Three of the seven, a barque, brig, and schooner, are from the United States. Landing in a canoe, we were met on the beach by the Governor and some of his gentlemen, and escorted to the castle. Thence we went to the residence of Mr. Bannerman. He is the great man of Accra, wealthy, liberally educated in England, and a gentleman, although with a deep tinge of African blood in his cheeks. But when native blood is associated with gentlemanly characteristics and liberal acquirements, it becomes, instead of a stigma of dishonor, an additional title to the respect of the world; since it implies that many obstacles have been overcome, in order to place the man where we find him. This, however, is a view not often taken by those who labor under the misfortune (for such it is, if they so consider it) of having African blood in their veins.
8.–A missionary, on his way to the Gaboon, and two American merchant-captains, Hunt and Dayley, dined with us in the ward-room. The latter are respectable men. The missionary, Mr. Burchell, seems much depressed. He has had the fever at Cape Palmas, the effects of which still linger in his constitution; while his companion, the Rev. Mr. Campbell, although but recently from America, has already finished his earthly labors, and gone to his reward. We left them only a month ago at Cape Palmas, in perfect health.
9.–My impressions of Accra are more favorable than of any other place which I have yet seen in Africa. British and Dutch Accra are contiguous. The forts of the two nations are within a mile of each other, situated on ground which, at a little distance, appears not unlike the “bluffs” on our western rivers; level upon the summit, with a precipitous descent, as if the land had “caved in” from the action of the water. The country round is level, and nearly free from woods as far as the rise of the hills, some ten miles distant. About three miles to the eastward, Danish Accra shows its neat town and well-kept fortress. I did not visit the place, but learn that it is fully equal to its neighbors. Thus, within a circuit of three or four miles, the traveller may perform no inconsiderable portion of the grand tour, visiting the territory of three different countries of Europe, and observing their military and civil institutions, their modes of business, their national characteristics, and all assimilated by a general modification, resulting from the climate and position in which they are placed. There seems to be an exchange of courtesy and social kindness among the three settlements. Seven or eight Europeans reside in the different forts; so that, together with the captains of merchant-vessels in the roads, there are tolerable resources of society.
All the Europeans have native wives, who dress in a modest, but peculiar style, of which the lady of Mr. Bannerman may give an example. She wore a close-fitting muslin chemisette, buttoned to the throat with gold buttons, a black silk tunic extending to the thigh, a colored cotton cloth, fastened round the waist and falling as low as the ankles, black silk stockings and prunella shoes. This lady is jet black, of pleasing countenance, and is a princess of royal blood. In the last great battle between the Europeans on the coast and the powerful King of Ashantee (the same who defeated and slew Sir Charles McCarthy), the native army was put to total rout by the aid of Congreve rockets. The king’s camp, with most of his women, fell into the hands of the victors. Three of his daughters were appropriated by the English merchants, here and at Cape Coast, and became their faithful and probably happy wives. One of the three fell to the lot of Mr. Bannerman, and is the lady whom I have described. These women are entrusted with all the property of their husbands, and are sometimes left for months in sole charge, while the merchants visit England. The acting governor of the British fort, Mr. Topp, departs for that country to-morrow, leaving his native wife at the head of affairs.
Mr. Bannerman is of Scottish blood by paternal descent, but African by the mother’s side, and English by education, and is a gentleman in manner and feeling. He is the principal merchant here, and transacts a large business with the natives, who come from two or three hundred miles in the interior, and constantly crowd his yard. There they sit, in almost perfect silence, receiving their goods, and making payment in gold-dust and ivory. Towards us Mr. Bannerman showed himself most hospitable, yet in a perfectly unostentatious manner.
Accra is the land of plenty in Africa. Beef, mutton, turkeys and chickens abound; and its supply of European necessaries and luxuries is unequalled.
10.–We got under way, yesterday, for the “Islands,” a term well understood to mean those of St. Thomas and Prince’s. Mr. Bushnell (one of the two missionaries who proposed to take passage with us from Cape Palmas, a month since) is now on board as a passenger to Prince’s Island. The other, Mr. Campbell, is dead. He was of a wealthy and influential family in Kentucky, and is said to have been a young man of extraordinary talent and promise.
Yesterday we fired seventeen minute-guns, in obedience to an order from the Navy-Department for the melancholy death of its chief, by the explosion of the Princeton’s gun. At twelve o’clock to-day, we fired thirteen minute guns, as a tribute of respect to the memory of Commodore Kennon, who fell a victim to the same disastrous accident. Alone on the waters, months after the event, and five thousand miles from the scene of his fate, we gave a sailor’s requiem to a brave and accomplished officer.
11.–Calm and sunny. Oh, how sunny!–and, alas, how calm!
At Accra, I received a present of an armadillo, or ant-eater, who is certainly a wonderful animal, and well worth studying, in the tedium of a calm between the tropics. The body proper is but about nine inches, but, when stretched at length, he covers an extent of two and a half feet, from head to tail, and is wholly fortified with an impenetrable armor of bony scales. On any occasion of alarm, it is his custom to thrust his long nose between his hind-legs and roll his body and tail compactly together, so as to appear like the half of a ball, presenting no vulnerable part to an enemy. In this condition he affords an excellent example of a self-involved philosopher, defending himself from the annoyance of the world by a stoical crustiness, and seeking all his enjoyment within his own centre. His muscular strength being great, and especially that of his fore-legs, it is very difficult to unroll him. An attempt being made to force his coil, he sticks his fore-claws into the scales of his head, and holds on with a death-like grip. At night, however, or when all is quiet, he vouchsafes to unbend himself, and waddles awkwardly about on his short legs, in pursuit of cockroaches, weevils and spiders. [Footnote: The above-described ant-eater is properly the long-tailed Manis, being an African species of the Pangolin. His scaly armor will turn a musket-ball. This animal, with a few other natural and artificial curiosities from Africa, has been deposited in the National collection, attached to the Patent Office at Washington.] 18.–After many days of calm or light winds, a stiff and fair breeze, for twenty-four hours past, has been driving us rapidly on our course. We hope to see St. Thomas to-morrow.
19.–Land was discovered at daylight; but the wind had again failed us. It being Sunday, divine service was performed, and well performed, by Mr. Bushnell. He has gained the respect and regard of all on board, by his amiable, guileless disposition, and unassuming piety.
At noon the breeze freshened, and brought us within ten miles of the island, by the close of day. St. Thomas is high, and possesses strong features. One landmark is so singular as to strike every beholder most forcibly. It is a rock, apparently not less than five hundred feet high, and shaped like a light-house, towering into the air, about a third of the distance from the southern extremity of the island. We are now within a few miles of the equator; and sundry jokes, not unfamiliar to the nautical Joe Miller, are passing through the ship, touching the appearance of “the line.”
20.–A heavy tornado struck us last night. We were prepared for it, however, with nothing on the ship but the topsail, clewed down, and the fore-topmast-staysail. The last mentioned sail blew away, and the ship lay over with her guns in the water. In five minutes, nevertheless, we were going before the wind and away from shore.
The appearance of the island is pleasant. A high volcanic peak, hills covered with wood, and spots of ground reminding us of the lawns or pasture-lands of our own country. On these tracts not a tree or a bush is visible for acres together; but whether the soil was left naked by nature, or rendered so by cultivation, is yet to be ascertained. A ruined chapel on the top of a hill, a large mansion, apparently unoccupied, on the shore, and a few huts among the cocoa-trees, are the only evidences that men have ever been here. Several canoes have now come off to us, bringing fruit and shells.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Excursion to St. Anne de Chaves–Mode of drying Coffee–Black Priests–Madame Domingo’s Hotel–Catering for the Mess–Man swallowed by a Shark–Letters from Home–Fashionable Equipage–Arrival at the Gaboon–King Glass and Louis Philippe–Mr. Griswold–Mr. and Mrs. Wilson–Character of the Gaboon People–Symptoms of Illness.
_May_ 22.–I have just returned from an excursion to St. Anne de Chaves, the capital of St. Thomas. Leaving the ship, yesterday, at 9 A.M., we landed, but did not find the horses which had been ordered from the city. Deeming it unadvisable to wait, three of the party started on foot, and two in the “gig” (not the land-vehicle of that name), which was to proceed on the same destination. After walking three or four miles along the beach, we met two of the six horses expected. These served to mount a pair of us, while the third, with the guide and boys, proceeded on foot; it being arranged that we should travel in the old-fashioned mode of “ride and tie.” Most of the distance was across open land, without a tree or shrub, but overgrown with coarse, high grass. The whole appearance was that of a western prairie, but without the grandeur of its extent, or the flowers that attract the traveller, when wearied with the immensity of prospect. The soil, like that of the cocoa-nut groves, is a black, deep, fertile loam.
In two hours, we arrived at St. Anne de Chaves. The town is spread out upon the circular shore of the bay, nearly half a mile in extent, and is defended by a stone fort, situated on the extreme point of the cape. There are three or four hundred houses, which, with few exceptions, are small, and constructed of wood. A long stone building is appropriated as the residence of the governor, and contains the public offices. The only remarkable edifices besides, are a large wooden church, looking very like a barn, and a smaller one of stone. The streets are unpaved, but kept remarkably clean, and not without an especial reason. The great, and almost only, article of commerce is coffee, which is kept in the houses, and dried daily in the streets. As soon as the sun is up, therefore, servants sweep the streets, as carefully as if it were a parlor-floor, and bring out large quantities of coffee, which they spread upon the ground to dry. At night, it is carried in. More than half the street, at the proper season, is covered with coffee yet in the husk. The exports of this article amount annually to about a million of pounds, producing from seventy to eighty thousand dollars. The only whites residing on the island, with one exception, are about sixty Portuguese; the number of colored inhabitants is estimated at fifteen thousand.
Black priests are plenty in the streets, walking about in bombazine robes, with the crisp hair shaven from their crowns. The Jesuits invariably followed hard upon the heels of the early Portuguese adventurers, in their African discoveries; but I am not aware that their efforts to Catholicise the natives have anywhere produced such permanent results, as in this island. To be sure, the religion of the inhabitants seems to amount to little more than the practice of a few external rites; for they have both the appearance and character of dishonesty and treachery, and are said to be addicted to all sorts of vice. So far as the black priests possess any influence, however, it is believed to be used conscientiously, and with excellent effect; nor, though provoked to smile at these queer specimens of the cloth, could I indulge the impulse without being self-convicted of narrowness and illiberally. St. Augustine, and other Fathers of the church, if I have heard aright, were of the same sable hue as the priests of St. Anne de Chaves.
The currency of the island is wretched. Coppers are the sole coin in use, in all domestic transactions, and pass at ten times their intrinsic value. They are said to be introduced mainly by the American merchantmen, who do most of the trade with the island.
The foreign business is chiefly transacted by Mr. Lippitt, a Hamburgh merchant, at whose house we were hospitably received. He set his best fare before us; and some of the party not only ate at his table, but slept beneath his roof. The others took lodgings at the house of Madam Domingo, a fat black lady, whose first husband, a merchant of considerable business, had left her a large mansion, several slaves, some children, and other desirable property. A young, dandy-looking negro succeeded to the vacant place in her house and heart, and now does the honors of the establishment. The largest room had a singular aspect of familiarity to our eyes; its walls being adorned with prints of American origin, among which were portraits of all the Presidents of the United States, previous to General Harrison. These, perhaps, were the gift of some merchant-captain to his hospitable landlady; or, more probably, they had been hung up in compliment to the national sensibilities of Madam Domingo’s most frequent guests. Tawdry mirrors and chandeliers completed the decoration of the apartment. A supper of coffee and hard-boiled eggs, beds harder than the eggs, and a bill equally difficult of digestion, comprise all that is further to be said of the fashionable hotel of St. Anne de Chaves. After a good breakfast with our Hamburgh friend, we all embarked in the gig, and, spreading our canvass to the breeze, reached the ship in an hour and ten minutes.
23.–Ashore with the caterer of the mess, marketing for sea-stores; a difficult task among a set of people who, though poor, care little about making a profit by selling what they have. Many of them would not take money, requiring in payment some article of clothing, especially shirts, or, as the next grand desideratum, trowsers. By careful research among the small plantations we were able to pick up a few goats, pigs, and fowls, and came off with materials to keep the mess in good humor for at least ten days. None but sea-faring men can appreciate the great truth, that amiability is an affair of the stomach, and that the disposition depends upon the dinner.
We found the soil very fertile. Groves of cocoa-nuts cover many acres together. Beneath the shade, coffee trees were in full bearing; and bananas, plantains, and corn, flourished luxuriantly. The people are all blacks, speak Portuguese, and–a circumstance that affords the voyager an agreeable variety, after seeing so much nakedness–wear clothes. Their habitations are scattered among the trees. It is usual to have one house for rainy weather, for sleeping, and for storage, and another as a kitchen, and for occupation during the day. The first is close, the other has merely corner-posts, supporting a roof sufficiently light to make a shade.
Part of the day was spent in picking up shells upon the shore. Occasionally, I unhoused a “soldier-crab,” who had taken up free quarters in some unoccupied cone, and became so delighted with its shelter as never to move without dragging it at his heels along the sand.
24.–6 P.M., a horrid accident has just occurred. As the gig was coming alongside, under sail, the tiller broke, and the coxswain who was steering, fell overboard. He was a good swimmer, and struck out for the ship, not thirty yards distant, while the boat fell off rapidly to the leeward. In less than half a minute, a monstrous shark rose to the surface, seized the poor fellow by the body, and carried him instantly under. Two hundred men were looking on, without the power to afford assistance. We beheld the water stained with crimson for many yards around–but the victim was seen no more! Once only, a few seconds after his disappearance, the monster rose again to the surface, displaying a length of well nigh twenty feet, and then his immense tail above the water, as if in triumph and derision. It was like something preternatural; and terribly powerful he must have been, to take under so easily, and swallow, in a moment, one of the largest and most athletic men in the ship. Poor Ned Martin!
25.–Again visited the town, where we found an American brig, the Vintage of Salem, Captain Frye. She is from the South Coast, homeward bound, with a cargo of gum copal. The Captain had some letters for the squadron, which were now eleven months old. My own gave an account of the President’s visit to Boston, the Bunker Hill Celebration, and other events of that antediluvian date. Epistolary communication is, at the best, a kind of humbug. What was new and true, when written, has become trite and false, before it can be read. It assures of nothing–not even of the existence of the writer; for his hand may have grown cold, since the characters which it traced began their weary voyage in quest of us; and all of which we can be absolutely certain is, that many unexpected events have happened, and many expected ones have failed to happen, betwixt the sealing of the letter and the unfolding it again. Until the ocean be converted into an electric telegraph, through which intelligence will thrill in an instant, there can be no real communication between the sailor and his far-off friends. And yet, after all, how pleasant it is to write letters!–how much pleasanter to receive them! I acknowledged the receipt of these musty epistles, by the same vessel that conveyed them to me.
I have seen but one equipage in the capital of St. Thomas, but that was a sufficiently remarkable one; a small, three-wheeled vehicle, like a velocipede, with a phaeton-top to it. Drawn by two negroes, and pushed by three, it rolled briskly to the door of the church, and there deposited a plump and youthful dame, as black as ebony. From the deference shown her by the priests, I inferred that it was my good fortune to behold the leading belle of St. Anne de Chaves.
After dining with Mr. Lippitt, we returned to the boats, and got safely on shipboard before dark. My impressions of St. Thomas and its delightful climate are highly favorable. A visit to an island has generally more of interest and amusement than one to a spot on the continent, because the secluded position of the inhabitants imparts an originality and raciness to their modes of life.
27.–Got under way yesterday morning for the Gaboon. Today the wind has been favorable, and we are now at anchor for the night, off the mouth of the river, five miles from land.
28.–At 4 P.M., anchored within three miles of the missionary establishment. Mr. Bushnell took his leave, respected by us all, as a pious, unpretending, sensible, and amiable man.
29.–Ashore. We found our friends well, and glad to see us. They are comfortably situated in large houses, made of bamboos, and thatched with the bamboo-leaves sewed together. These present an airy, cool, and light appearance, highly suitable to a tropical region, and yet are impervious to rain.
We visited the house of King Glass, where several of the chiefs assembled to talk a palaver. They are apprehensive of difficulties with the French, and wish the English and Americans to interpose. According to their story, the commandant of a French fort, three miles distant, had attempted, a short time ago, to procure a cession of their territory. This they constantly refused, declaring their intention to keep the country open for trade with all nations, and allow exclusive advantages to none. After several trials, the commandant apparently relinquished his purpose. A French merchant-captain now appeared, who ingratiated himself into the favor of the simple King Glass, invited him to a supper, and made his majesty and the head-man drunk. While in this condition, he procured the signatures of the King and two or three chiefs to a paper, which he declared to be merely a declaration of friendship towards the French, but which proved to be a cession of certain rights of jurisdiction. Next morning, the French fired a salute of twenty-one guns in honor of the treaty between Louis Philippe and King Glass, and sent presents which the natives refused to receive. They now apprehend a forcible seizure of their territory by the French, and desire our interposition, as calculated to prevent such a national calamity. Our captain, however, declined to interfere, or to express any opinion in the premises, on the ground that it was not his province to judge of such matters abroad, unless the interests of Americans were involved.
The missionaries have perhaps some agency in this movement. They see the probability that the Catholic priests will follow them to the Gaboon, and subvert their influence with the natives.
31.–In the morning I visited Mr. Griswold’s place, about two miles from Baracca, the residence of Mr. Wilson. The former establishment was commenced only eight months ago; and already there are two buildings finished, and two more nearly so, all of bamboo. The ground is more fertile than that occupied by Mr. Wilson, and has been brought thus seasonably into a good state of cultivation. Mr. Griswold is a Vermonter, a practical farmer, and an energetic man, and doubtless turns his agricultural experience to good account, great as is the difference between the bleak hills of New England, and this equatorial region. His lady, an interesting woman, is just recovering from fever.
After an agreeable visit, we returned to the ship, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Griswold, and there found Mr. Wilson and lady, and Mr. James and his daughter. They all dined and spent the day on board. Mr. Wilson is well known in America by reputation, and is one of the most able and judicious among the three hundred missionaries, whom the American Board sends forth throughout the world. Here at Gaboon, he preaches to the natives in their own language, which he represents as being very soft, and easy of acquirement. The people frequent divine services with great regularity, and are at least attentive listeners, if not edified by what they hear. Mrs. Wilson is a lady of remarkable zeal and energy. Reared in luxury, in a Southern city, she liberated her slaves, gave up a handsome fortune to the uses of missions, and devoted herself to the same great cause, in that region of the earth where her faith and fortitude were likely to be most severely tried. It is now six years since she came to Africa; and she has never faltered for a moment. Having had the good fortune, on a former cruise, to make the acquaintance of Mrs. Wilson, at Cape Palmas, I was happy to renew it here. I have seldom met with a person so well fitted to adorn society, and never with one in whose high motives of action and genuine piety I had more confidence.
The natives at the Gaboon, to whom these excellent people are sacrificing themselves, are said to present more favorable points of character than those in most other parts of Africa. They are mild in their manners, friendly to Europeans and Americans, and disposed to imitate them in dress and customs. They own many slaves among themselves, but treat them with singular gentleness, and never sell them to foreigners. They are very indolent, and make no adequate improvement of their advantages for agriculture and trade. Their country is excellent for grazing, and the cattle of the best kind; but they take so little forethought as to sell even the last cow, should a purchaser offer. Consequently, there are hardly more than thirty cattle left in a tract of country capable, in its present state, of sustaining a thousand.
King Glass is an old man, much inclined to drink, yet more regular than any of his subjects in attendance at church. Toko, a headman, is very shrewd and intelligent, and highly spoken of by Mr. Wilson, in reference to his moral qualities. Will Glass, nephew to the King, is blessed with a couple of dozen wives, and seldom moves without a train of five or six of them in attendance. He paid a visit to our ship in a full-dress English uniform, said to have cost three hundred dollars. On the other side of the river lives King Will, a great man, and with the reputation of a polished gentleman. The slave-trade is carried on in this King’s dominions; and, while I write, a Spanish slaver lies at anchor off his town, waiting for her human cargo.
_June_ 1.–Got under way, and went down the river about three miles, when, the wind failing, we anchored. At 3 P.M., we started again, and stood out to sea. Mr. Wilson accompanied us to the mouth of the river, and there left us, bearing back our hearty good wishes for his personal prosperity and that of the mission.
2.–At 12, meridian, we have made the run to the island of St. Thomas, and are now about fifteen miles to the northward of it.
3.–The wind is still sufficiently fresh and fair to enable us to make seven knots westing; the great desideratum. Four months we have been running away from our letters; and now we go to meet them. Blow, breezes, blow, and waft us swiftly onward!
4.–A continuance of favorable winds. I am not well to-day. Slight headache, and heaviness of feeling–no great matter–but these are ominous symptoms, on the coast of Africa.
5.–One year since we left America; a year not without incident and interest. We are still on the first parallel of north latitude, and going nine. I am under the surgeon’s hands, apprehending a fever, but hoping to throw it off.
6.–We have made two hundred and twenty miles within the last twenty-four hours; and still the breeze does not slacken. Much better in health. Bless the man who first invented Doctors!
CHAPTER XIX.
Recovery from Fever–Projected Independence of Liberia–Remarks on Climate and Health–Peril from Breakers–African Arts–Departure for the Cape de Verds–Man Overboard.
June 18.–A weary blank! Since my last date, I have had the coast fever, caught by sleeping on shore, at St. Anne de Chaves, and am now just recovering my physical force. My sickness was accompanied with little bodily pain, but with great prostration of strength. Able medical advice, and kind and judicious treatment, have brought me up a little; and, with the help of God, I may again call myself well, in a week or two more. But there is great danger of relapses, caution!
We are now at Monrovia, having made the passage from the river Gaboon, hitherward, in seven days and fourteen hours, from anchorage to anchorage–an unprecedented run! The Macedonian has been here, and is gone.
19.–Still better this morning. The sky looks brighter than before; the woods seem greener, and cast a lovelier shade; the surf breaks more gracefully along the beach; and the natives, paddling their canoes around the ship, look more human–more like brethren. Returning health gives a more beautiful aspect to all things. It is almost worth while to have been brought so low by sickness, for the sake of the freshness of body and spirit, the renewed youth, the tenderer susceptibility to all good impressions, which make my present consciousness so delightful. It is like being new-created, and placed in a new world. Life, to the convalescent, looks as fair and promising as if he had never tried it, and been weary of it.
20.–Still improving. The fine weather of yesterday and to-day invigorates and cheers me. Lieutenant Governor Benedict and some friends are expected on board, by special invitation. We pay much attention to the persons in authority here; it being the policy of our government to befriend and countenance the colonies. I hear that a serious effort is now in progress, at this place, to declare Liberia independent of the Colonization Society, and set up a republic. Lieutenant Governor Benedict and Mr. Teage are said to be at the head of the movement. Both are men of talent. Mr. Teage formerly edited the Liberia Herald, and preached in the Baptist Church, where his services were most emphatically gratuitous; for he not only ministered without a stipend, but supplied a place of worship–the sacred edifice being his own private property. He is certainly one of the ablest, if not the very ablest, writer and preacher in the colony. The project above-mentioned seems to me an unwise one; but benefits, which do not now appear, may possibly be obtained by sundering the relations between the settlement and the parent society. Much is expected from England. That nation, however, can never feel a maternal interest in the colony, nor will do for it what the Society has all along done, and continues to do.
21.–Still stronger. I am now able to resume my place at the mess-table. But care is necessary to avoid a relapse. It is one of the worst features of this disease, that it appears to continue in the system for many months after the patient’s recovery, and to renew its attacks upon the slightest exposure. Most persons find it necessary to leave the coast, in order to the re-establishment of their health. I am not the only convalescent on board the ship. Mr. Ewal, a young Danish supercargo, is here for a few days, to try the benefit of a change of air, and enjoy the attendance of a regular physician. He has been on shore above a month, sick of the fever, under the charge of Dr. Prout, a colored practitioner. Our captain pitied his condition, invited him on board, and, with his uniform kindness, took him into the cabin, where, in only three days, he has already improved wonderfully.
27.–A sunny day, after three or four dull and rainy ones. My health is now so far restored, that I shall insert no more bulletins. I owe much to the care of our surgeon, who is very able and attentive, and has seen much yellow-fever practice, in the West Indies. The assistant-surgeon is also an excellent and an untiring officer. My fever, like the other cases which have happened on board, was of a bilious kind. All foreigners make themselves liable to it, either in its milder or more aggravated forms, by sleeping even a single night on shore; but, according to Dr. Hall, a physician of great experience on the coast, health may be preserved for an indefinite period, by the simple precaution of sleeping always on ship-board, at a very moderate distance from land. This does not altogether coincide with my own observations. It is true, that during eight or ten months after the arrival of a ship upon the coast, the health of her crew will probably continue good, if they neither sleep on shore nor ascend the rivers. But, if exposed for a longer period to the enervating influences of the unceasing heat, and the frequent penetrating rains, it may reasonably be expected that any ship’s company will be broken down, even though not a single death may occur. In our own ship, we have recently had many cases of fever, where the patients have neither slept on shore, nor been exposed to the peculiar malaria of rivers. Doubtless, however, the fever of the country, where all due precautions have been used, will be much lighter on board, than on shore. But the patients will be liable to frequent relapses, and a complete recovery will be almost out of the question, without a change of climate. It is another objection to the long continuance of ships on this station, that all wounds or injuries, however slight, have a tendency to become obstinate and dangerous sores, which incapacitate these afflicted from performing any duty.
Besides the coast fever (which, Dr. Hall remarks, he has never known an emigrant completely to escape), there is an intermittent fever, against which no acclimation will protect the colonist, any more than against the bilious fever of America. The Rev. Mr. James, a colored missionary, told me, that, for seven years, he had been accustomed to suffer attacks of fever, once in every four or five weeks.
The natives of this country are as healthy as any people under Heaven. A benignant Providence has adapted the climate, soil, and productions, of every part of the globe to the constitutions of those races of mankind which it has placed there. Nor is Africa an exception. In spite of her desolating wars, and the immense drain of her children through the slave trade which for centuries has checked the increase of population, she is still a populous country. The aboriginal natives, unless killed through superstition or cruelty, survive to an almost patriarchal longevity. The colored people of America, or any other part of the world, may be regarded as borrowed from Africa, and inheriting a natural adaptation to her soil and climate. Such emigrants, therefore, may be expected to suffer less than the whites, in the process of acclimation, and may, in due time, find their new residence more genial to their constitutions, than those which they have quitted. At all events, their children will probably flourish here, and attain a fulness of physical, and perhaps moral and intellectual perfection, which the colored race has fallen short of, in other regions.
As the country becomes cleared and cultivated, the mortality of the emigrants decreases. It is asserted to be one-third less, at this period, than it was ten years ago. The statistics of Cape Palmas show the population to be on the increase, independently of immigration. Dr. Hall affirmed (but, I should imagine, with unusual latitude of expression) that, in the sickliest season ever known at Cape Palmas, the rate of mortality was lower than that of the free colored population in Baltimore, in an ordinary year. In another generation, this may no doubt be said with perfect accuracy.
28.–Last night, the Porpoise came in, and anchored inside of us. As we lay unusually near the shore, and as the wind was rising, with a heavy swell, the brig found herself, this morning, in a dangerous position. She sent us a boat, to say that she was dragging her anchor, and to ask for a hawser. This was immediately supplied; but, before we could give her the end of it, she had drifted into the breakers. She hoisted her colors, union down, and was momentarily expected to strike. At this instant, a tremendous roller swamped one of our boats, and left the men swimming for their lives. The other boats went to their assistance, and providentially succeeded in rescuing them all. Meantime, the brig made sail, and, by the help of our hawser, was able to keep her wind, and got out to sea, leaving both her anchors behind.
Soon after the Porpoise was saved, we found ourselves likewise in equal peril. The breakers began to whiten about the ship. The wind was not violent, but the swell was terrible; and the long rollers filled the bay, breaking in forty feet of water, and covering the sea with foam. Our anchors held tolerably well; but we dragged slowly, until, from seven fathoms, we had shoaled our water to four and a half. A council of the officers being called, it was determined to get under way. A hawser and stream-anchor being sent out, in order to bring the ship’s head in the proper direction for making sail, the cables were slipped. It was a moment of intense interest; for, had the rollers or the wind inclined the ship from her proper course, we must inevitably have been lost; but she stood out beautifully, and soon left all peril astern.
There were still three merchant-vessels at anchor; the American barque Reaper, a Bremen brig, and a Hamburg schooner. While we had our own danger to encounter, we thought the less of our fellow-sufferers; but, after our escape, it was painful to think of leaving them in jeopardy. To the American barque (which lay inshore of us, with her colors union down) we sent a boat, with sixteen Kroomen, by whose assistance she was saved. The Bremen brig had her colors at half-mast, appealing to us for aid. She was nearer to the shore than the other vessels, and lay in the midst of the breakers, which frequently covered her from stem to stern. Her escape seemed impossible; and her cargo, valued at thirty thousand dollars, would have been considered a dear purchase at a thirtieth of that sum. We gave her all the help in our power, and not without effect; but her salvation, under Providence, was owing to a strong tide, which was setting out of the river, and counteracted the influence of wind and swell. Finally, we had the satisfaction to see all the vessels, one after another, come off safe.
During this scene, there was great commotion on shore, the people evidently expecting one or all of us to be lost. When the Porpoise got off, the Kroomen on the beach raised a great shout of joy.
29.–There is a very heavy sea this morning, with no prospect of its immediately subsiding. The Kroomen say that it will last four days from its commencement. It must have been terrific in the bay, last night. All the vessels are in sight, keeping off till the swell abates. We have left two boats behind us, and two anchors, besides the stream-anchor. There has been nothing like this storm, since our arrival on the coast.
_July_ 2.–Again at anchor.
As we shall soon have done with Liberia, I must not forget to insert, among the motley records of this journal, some account of its ants. The immense number of these insects, which infest every part of the land, is a remarkable provision in the economy of Africa, as well as of other tropical countries. Though very destructive to houses, fences, and other articles of value, their ravages are far more than repaid by the benefits bestowed; for they act as scavengers in removing the great quantity of decaying vegetable matter, which would otherwise make the atmosphere intolerable. They perform their office both within doors and without. Frequently, the “drivers,” as they are called, enter houses in myriads, and, penetrating to the minutest recesses, destroy everything that their omnivorous appetite can render eatable. Whatever has the principle of decay in it, is got rid of at once. All vermin meet their fate from these destroyers. Food, clothing, necessaries, superfluities, mere trash, and valuable property, are alike in their regard, and equally acceptable to their digestive powers. They would devour this journal with as little compunction as so much blank paper–and a sermon as readily as the journal–nor would either meal lie heavy on their stomachs. They float on your coffee, and crawl about your plate, and accompany the victuals to your mouth.
The ants have a Queen, whom the colonists call Bugga-Bug. Her subjects are divided into three classes; the Laborers, who do nothing but work–the Soldiers, who do nothing but fight–and the Gentry, who neither work nor fight, but spend their lives in the pleasant duty of continuing their species. The habitations of these insects, as specimens of mechanical ingenuity, are far superior to the houses of the natives, and are really the finest works of architecture to be met with on the African coast. In height, these edifices vary from four to fifteen or twenty feet, and are sometimes ten or twelve feet in diameter at the base. They contain apartments for magazines, for nurseries, and for all other domestic, social, and public purposes, communicating with one another, and with the exterior, by innumerable galleries and passages. The clay, which forms the material of the buildings, is rendered very compact, by a glutinous matter, mixed with earth; and all the passages, many of which extend great distances under ground, are plastered with the same kind of stucco. Captain Tuckey, in his expedition to the river Zaire, discovered ant-hills composed of similar materials to the above, but which, in shape, precisely resembled gigantic toad-stools, as high as a one-story house. In this part of Africa, they have the form of a mound. At the present day, when the community-principle is attracting so much attention, it would seem to be seriously worth while for the Fourierites to observe both the social economy and the modes of architecture of these African ants. Providence may, if it see fit, make the instincts of the lower orders of creation a medium of divine revelations to the human race: and, at all events, the aforesaid Fourierites might stumble upon hints, in an ant-hill, for the convenient arrangement of those edifices, which, if I mistake not, they have christened Phalanxteries.
8.–At 11 A.M., got under way for the Cape de Verds.
10.–Calm in the morning, and predictions of a long passage. At noon, sprung up a ten-knot breeze; and are sanguine of making a short run. In the evening, at the tea-table, we were talking of the delights of Saratoga, at this season, and contrasting the condition of the fortunate visitors to that fashionable resort, with that of the sallow, debilitated, discontented cruisers on the African station. In the midst of the conversation, the cry of “man overboard,” brought us all on deck with a rush. There was not much sea, though we were going seven knots. The man kept his head well above water, and swam steadily toward the life-buoy, which floated at a short distance from him–his only hope–while the wide Atlantic was yawning around him, eager for his destruction. We watched him anxiously, until he seized it, and then thought of sharks. We were too far at sea, however, for many of these monsters to be in attendance. In a few moments a boat picked up man and buoy, and the ship was on her course again.
21.–Anchored at Porto Praya.
The season of journalizing, to any good purpose, is over. Scenes and objects in this region have been so often presented to my eyes, that they now fail to make the vivid impressions which could alone enable me (were that ever possible) to weave them into a lively narrative of my adventures. My entries therefore, for the rest of the cruise, are likely to be “few, and far between.”
CHAPTER XX
Glimpses of the bottom of the Sea–The Gar-Fish–The Booby and the Mullet–Improvement of Liberia–Its Prospects–Higher social position of its Inhabitants–Intercourse between the White and Colored Races–A Night on Shore–Farewell to Liberia.–Reminiscence of Robinson Crusoe.
_September_ 1.–At Porto Grande.
To-day, as for many previous days, the water has been beautifully clear. The massive anchor and the links of the chain-cable, which lay along the bottom, were distinctly visible upon the sand, full fifty feet below. Hundreds of fish–the grouper, the red snapper, the noble baracouta, the mullet, and many others, unknown to northern seas–played round the ship, occasionally rising to seize some floating food, that perchance had been thrown overboard. With my waking eye, I beheld the bottom of the sea as plainly as Clarence saw it in his dream; although, indeed, here were few of the splendid and terrible images that were revealed to him:–
“A thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon; Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels.”
Nevertheless, it was a sight that seemed to admit me deeper into the liquid element than I had ever been before. Now and then came the long, slender gar-fish, and, with his sword-like beak, struck some unhappy fish which tempted his voracity. I watched the manoeuvres of the destroyer and his victims, with no little interest. The fish (which, in the two instances particularly observed, was the mullet) came instantly to the surface, on being struck, and sprang far out of water. He swam on his side with a circular motion, keeping his head above the surface. From time to time he leaped into the air, spasmodically, and in a fit of painful agony; for it could not be from alarm, as the foe was nowhere visible. Gradually, his strength failed, and his efforts became feebler, and still more feeble.
The fates of the two mullets were different. One received a second blow from the inexorable gar-fish, which, for a moment, increased his agony and his exertions. He then lay motionless upon the surface, at rest from all trouble. The conqueror came a third time, seized his prey, and swam swiftly out of sight.
The other mullet, which rose half an hour afterwards, swam closer to the ship than his predecessor, and received no second blow. While the poor fellow was yet in the death-struggle, came two great sable birds, with bills, wings, and legs, like those of the heron. Flapping their dark wings in the air, they circled round, and repeatedly swooped almost upon the dying fish. But he was not doomed to be their victim. Presently, with his brown back, white breast, and pink bill, came flapping along a booby, and, without a moment’s hesitation, stooped upon the mullet, and appeared to swallow him in the twinkling of an eye. The fish was at least six inches in length, and the bird not twice as much. How so liberal a morsel could be so quickly disposed of, was a marvel to a dozen idlers, who had been curiously observing this game of life and death to one party, and a dinner to the other. Certainly, the booby carried off the fish. Borne down by the weight of his spoil, the feathered gormandizer alighted on the water–rested himself for a moment–rose again, and re-alighted–and in this manner, with many such intervals of repose, made his way to the shore.
25.–At 1 P.M., sailed for the Coast, in company with the Truxton.
26.–Anchored off Cape Mesurado.
It is now fourteen months since our ship first visited Monrovia. Within that period there has been a very perceptible improvement in its condition. The houses are in better repair; the gardens under superior cultivation. There is an abundant supply of cattle, which have been purchased from the natives. More merchant-vessels now make this their port, bringing goods hither, and creating a market for the commodities, live stock, and vegetables, of the colonists. An increased amount of money is in circulation; and the inhabitants find that they can dispose of the products of their industry for something better than the cloth and tobacco, which they were formerly obliged to take in payment. The squadron of United States men-of-war, if it do no other good, will at least have an essential share in promoting the prosperity of Liberia.
After having seen much, and reflected upon the subject even to weariness, I write down my opinion, that Liberia is firmly planted, and is destined to increase and prosper. This it will do, though all further support from the United States be discontinued. A large part of the present population, it is true, are ignorant, and incompetent to place a just estimate on freedom, or even to comprehend what freedom really is. But they are generally improving in this respect; and there is already a sufficient intermixture of intelligent, enterprising and sagacious men, to give the proper tone to the colony, and insure its ultimate success. The great hope, however, is in the generation that will follow these original emigrants. Education is universally diffused among the children; and its advantages, now beginning to be very manifest, will, in a few years, place the destinies of this great enterprise in the hands of men born and bred in Africa. Then, and not till then, will the experiment of African colonization, and of the ability of the colonists for self-support and self-government, have been fairly tried. My belief is firm in a favorable result.
Meantime, it would be wiser in the Colonization Society, and its more zealous members, to moderate their tone, and speak less strongly as to the advantages held out by Liberia. Unquestionably, it is a better country than America, for the colored race. But they will find it very far from a paradise. Men, who expect to become independent and respectable, can only achieve their object here on the same terms as everywhere else. They must cultivate their minds, be willing to exert themselves, and not look for a too easy or too rapid rise of fortune. One thing is certain. People of color have here their fair position in the comparative scale of mankind. The white man, who visits Liberia, be he of what rank he may, and however imbued with the prejudice of hue, associates with the colonists on terms of equality. This would be impossible (speaking not of individuals, but of the general intercourse between the two races) in the United States. The colonist feels his advantage in this respect, and reckons it of greater weight in the balance than all the hardships to which he is obliged to submit, in an unwonted climate and a strange country. He is redeemed from ages of degradation, and rises to the erect stature of humanity. On this soil, sun-parched though it be, he gives the laws; and the white man must obey them. In this point of view–as restoring to him his long-lost birthright of equality–Liberia may indeed be called the black man’s paradise.
It is difficult to lay too great stress on the above consideration. When the white man sets his foot on the shore of Africa, he finds it necessary to throw off his former prejudices. For my own part, I have dined at the tables of many colored men in Liberia, have entertained them on shipboard, worshipped with them at church; walked, rode, and associated with them, as equal with equal, if not as friend with friend. Were I to meet those men in my own town, and among my own relatives, I would treat them kindly and hospitably, as they have treated me. My position would give me confidence to do so. But, in another city, where I might be known to few, should I follow the dictates of my head and heart, and there treat these colored men as brethren and equals, it would imply the exercise of greater moral courage than I have ever been conscious of possessing. This is sad; but it shows forcibly what the colored race have to struggle against in America, and how vast an advantage is gained by removing them to another soil.
10.–Yesterday, Governor Roberts gave our officers a farewell dinner. We left the table early, made our adieus, and were on our way down the river half an hour before sunset. The pilot and some of our friends endeavored to dissuade us from attempting the passage of the bar, pronouncing the surf too dangerous. Some Kroomen also discouraged us, saying that the bar was “too saucy.” With the fever behind us, and the wild breakers and sharks before, it was matter of doubt what course to pursue. Anxiety to be on our way homeward settled the difficulty; and we left the wharf, to make, at least, a trial. A trial, and nothing more, it proved; for, as we neared the bar, it became evident that there would be great rashness in attempting to cross. The surf came in heavily, and with the noise of thunder, and the gigantic rollers broke into foam, across the whole width of the bar. Darkness had fallen around us, with the sudden transition of a tropical climate. There was no open space visible amid the foam; and, while the men lay on their oars, we looked anxiously for the clear water, which marks the channel to the sea. Many minutes were thus spent, looking with all our eyes.
A council of war was held between the captain and myself, in which we discussed the probabilities of being swamped and eaten. Having once fairly started, we did not like to turn back, especially as it would be necessary to go through the insipid ceremony of repeating our good-bye. Then, too, the image of fever rose behind us. By the prohibition of the Commodore, and the dictates of prudence, not an officer had slept on shore on any part of the mainland of the African coast, during the whole period of our cruise; and now, at the very last moment, to be compelled to incur the risk, was almost beyond patience. On the other hand, there was the foaming surf, and the ravenous sharks, in whose maws there was an imminent probability of our finding accommodation, should we venture onward. It is a fate proper enough for a sailor, but which he may be excused for avoiding as long as possible. Our council ended, therefore, with a determination to turn back, and trust to the tender mercies of the fever.
It was a splendid moonlight night; one of those nights on which the natives deem it impossible to catch fish, saying that the sky has too many eyes, and that the fish will shun the bait. The frogs kept up an incessant chorus, reminding me of the summer evening melodies of my native land, yet as distinct from those as are the human languages of the two countries. I have observed that the notes of frogs are different in different parts of the world. On the banks of the beautiful Arno, it is like the squalling of a cat. Here, it is an exact imitation of the complaining note of young turkeys. Unweariedly, these minstrels made music in our ears, until dawn gleamed in the East, and ushered in a bright and glorious morning. The birds now took the place of the frogs in nature’s orchestra, and cooed, peeped, chattered, screamed, whistled, and sang, according to their various tastes and abilities. The trees were very green, and the dew-drops wonderfully brilliant; and, amid the cheerful influence of sun-rise, it was difficult to believe that we had incurred any deadly mischief, by our night’s rest on the shore of Africa.
At a later period, I add, that no bad result ensued, either to the captain, myself, or the eight seamen, who were detained ashore on the above occasion. This good fortune may be attributable to the care with which we guarded ourselves from the night-air and the damps; and besides, we left the coast immediately, and, after a brief visit to Sierra Leone, pursued our homeward course to America. On another occasion, a lieutenant, a surgeon, and six men, belonging to our squadron, were detained on shore at Cape Mount, all night, after being capsized and wet. What were their precautions, I am unable to say; but, all the officers and men were attacked by fever, more or less severely, and in one instance fatally. [Footnote: While revising these sheets for the press, the writer hears of an example which may show the necessity of the health-regulations imposed on the American squadron. The U.S. ship Preble ascended the River Gambia to the English settlement of Bathurst, a distance of fifteen miles, to protect the European residents against an apprehended attack of the natives. Although the ship remained but one or two days, yet, in that brief space, about a hundred cases of fever occurred on board, proving fatal to the master, a midshipman, and seventeen of the crew.] And now we leave Liberia behind us, with our best wishes for its prosperity, but with no very anxious desire to breathe its fever-laden atmosphere again. There is enough of interest on the African station; but life blazes quickly away, beneath the glare of that torrid sun; and one year of that climate is equivalent to half a dozen of a more temperate one, in its effect upon the constitution. The voyager returns, with his sallow visage, and emaciated form, and enervated powers, to find his contemporaries younger than himself–to realize that he has taken two or three strides for their one, towards the irrevocable bourne; and has abridged, by so much, the season in which life is worth having for what may be accomplished, or for any zest that may be found in it.
Before quitting the coast, I must not forget that our cruising-ground has a classical claim upon the imagination, as being the very same over which Robinson Crusoe made two or three of his voyages. That famous navigator sailed all along the African shore, between Cape de Verd and the Equator, trading for ivory, for gold dust, and especially for slaves, with as little compunction as Pedro Blanco himself. It is remarkable that De Foe, a man of most severe and delicate conscience, should have made his hero a slave-dealer, and should display a perfect insensibility to anything culpable in the traffic. Morality has taken a great step in advance, since that day; or, at least, it has thrown a strong light on one spot, with perhaps a corresponding shadow on some other. The next age may shift the illumination, and show us sins as great as that of the slave-trade, but which now enter into the daily practice of men claiming to be just and wise.
CHAPTER XXI.
Sierra Leone–Sources of its Population–Appearance of the Town and surrounding Country–Religious Ceremonies of the Mandingoes–Treatment of liberated Slaves–Police of Sierra Leone–Agencies for Emigration to the West Indies–Colored Refugees from the United States–Unhealthiness of Sierra Leone–Dr. Fergusson–Splendid Church–Melancholy Fate of a Queen’s Chaplain–Currency–Probable Ruin of the Colony.
_October_ 15.–We arrived off the point of Sierra Leone, last night, and were piloted up to the town, this morning.
This is one of the most important and interesting places on the coast of Africa. It was founded in 1787, chiefly through the benevolent agency of Mr. Granville Sharp, as a place of refuge for a considerable number of colored persons, who had left their masters, and were destitute and unsheltered in the streets of London. Five years later, the population of the colony was recruited by above a thousand slaves, who had fled from the United States to Nova Scotia, during the American revolution. Again, in 1800, there was an addition of more than five hundred maroons, or outlawed negroes, from Jamaica. And finally, since 1807, Sierra Leone has been the receptacle for the great numbers of native Africans liberated from slave-ships, on their capture by British cruisers. Pensioners, with their families, from the black regiments in the West Indies, have likewise been settled here. The population is now estimated at about forty-five thousand; a much smaller amount, probably, than the aggregate of all the emigrants who have been brought hither. The colony has failed to prosper, but not through any lack of effort on the part of England. It is the point, of all others on the African coast, where British energy, capital, and life, have been most profusely expended.
The aspect of the Cape, as you approach it from the sea, is very favorable. You discern cultivated hills, the white mansions of the wealthy, and thatched cottages, neat and apparently comfortable, abodes of the poorer class. Over a space of several miles, the country appears to be in a high state of improvement. One large village is laid out with the regularity of Philadelphia, consisting of seven parallel streets, kept free from grass, with thatched huts on either side, around which are small plots of ground, full of bananas and plantain trees. The town itself is a scene of far greater activity than any other settlement on the West Coast. Great numbers of negroes, of various tribes and marks, are to be seen there. So mixed, indeed, is the colored population, that there is little sympathy or sense of fellowship among them. The Mandingoes seem to be the most numerous, and are the most remarkable in personal appearance. Almost without exception, they are very tall figures, and wear white robes, and high caps without visors.
These Mandingoes hold the faith of Mahomet, and at the time of our arrival, were celebrating the feast of the Ramazan. Several hundreds of them paraded through the streets in a confused mass, occasionally stopping before some gentleman’s house, and enacting sundry mummeries, in consideration of which they expected to receive a present. In front of a house where I happened to be, the whole body were ranged in order; and two of them, one armed with a gun, and the other with a bow and arrow, ran from end to end of the line, crouching down and pretending to be on the watch against an enemy. At intervals, their companions, or a portion of them, raised a cry, like those which one hears in the mosques of Asia. The above seemed to compose nearly all the ceremony; and our liberality was in proportion to the entertainment, consisting merely of a handful of coppers, scattered broadcast among the multitude. When this magnificent guerdon was thus proffered to their acceptance, they forthwith forgot their mummery, and joined in a general scramble. The king, or chief, now stept forward, and protested energetically against this mode of distribution; it being customary to consign all the presents to him, to be disposed of according to his better judgment. However, the mob picked up the coppers, and showed themselves indifferently well contented.
When cargoes of slaves are brought to Sierra Leone, they are placed in a receptacle called the Queen’s Yard, where they remain until the constituted authorities have passed judgment on the ship. This seldom requires more than a week. The liberated slaves are then apprenticed for five, seven, or nine years; the Government requiring one pound ten shillings sterling from the person who takes them. Unless applicants come forward, these victims of British philanthropy are turned adrift, to be supported as they may, or, unless Providence take all the better care of them, to starve. For the sick, however, there is admittance to the Government Hospital; and the countrymen of the new-comers, belonging to the same tribe, lend them such aid as is in their power. Food, consisting principally of rice, cassadas, and plantains, or bananas, is extremely cheap; insomuch that a penny a day will supply a man with enough to eat. The market is plentifully supplied with meats, fowls, and vegetables, and likewise with other articles, which may be tidbits to an African stomach, but are not to be met with in our bills of fare. For instance, among other such delicacies, I saw several rats, each transfixed with a wooden skewer, and some large bats, looking as dry as if they had given up the ghost a month ago. Supporting themselves on food of this kind, it is not to be wondered at, that the working-classes find it possible to live at a very low rate of labor. The liberated slaves receive from four to six pence, and the Kroomen nine pence per diem; these wages constituting their sole