Brian Carnell's Wiki

This page is read only. You can view the source, but not change it. Ask your administrator if you think this is wrong.
<html>
    <h1>
      JOURNAL OF AN AFRICAN CRUISER
    </h1>
    <h4>
      Comprising Sketches Of The Canaries, The Cape De Verds, Liberia, Madeira,
      Sierra Leone, And Other Places Of Interest On The West Coast Of Africa.
      &lt;/4><br />
    </h4>
    <h2>
      By Horatio Bridge
    </h2>
    <h4>
      An Officer Of The U. S. Navy. <br /> <br /> Edited By Nathaniel Hawthorne.
      <br /> <br /> London: Wiley And Putnam, 6, Waterloo Place 1845 <br /> <br />
      [Entered At Stationers' Hall.]
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      PREFACE.
    </h2>
    <p>
      The following pages have afforded occupation for many hours, which might
      else have been wasted in idle amusements, or embittered by still idler
      regrets at the destiny which carried the writer to a region so little
      seductive as Africa, and kept him there so long. He now offers them to the
      public, after some labor bestowed in correction and amendment, but
      retaining their original form, that of a daily Journal, which better
      suited his lack of literary practice and constructive skill, and was in
      fitter keeping with the humble pretensions of the work, than a
      re-arrangement on artistic principles. At various points of the narrative,
      however, he has introduced observations or disquisitions from two or three
      common-place books, which he kept simultaneously with the Journal; and
      thus, in a few instances, remarks are inserted as having been made early
      in the cruise, while, in reality, they were perhaps the ultimate result of
      his reflection and judgment upon the topics discussed.
    </p>
    <p>
      If, in any portion of the book, the author may hope to engage the
      attention of the public, it will probably be in those pages which treat of
      Liberia. The value of his evidence, as to the condition and prospects of
      that colony, must depend, not upon any singular acuteness of observation
      or depth of reflection, but upon his freedom from partizan bias, and his
      consequent ability to perceive a certain degree of truth, and inclination
      to express it frankly. A northern man, but not unacquainted with the slave
      institutions of our own and other countries&mdash;neither an Abolitionist
      nor a Colonizationist&mdash;without prejudice, as without prepossession&mdash;he
      felt himself thus far qualified to examine the great enterprise which he
      beheld in progress. He enjoyed, moreover, the advantage of comparing
      Liberia, as he now saw it, with a personal observation of its condition
      three years before, and could therefore mark its onward or retreating
      footsteps, and the better judge what was permanent, and what merely
      temporary or accidental. With these qualifications, he may at least hope
      to have spoken so much of truth as entirely to gratify neither the friends
      nor enemies of this interesting colony.
    </p>
    <p>
      The West Coast of Africa is a fresher field for the scribbling tourist,
      than most other parts of the world. Few visit it, unless driven by stern
      necessity; and still fewer are disposed to struggle against the enervating
      influence of the climate, and keep up even so much of intellectual
      activity as may suffice to fill a diurnal page of Journal or Commonplace
      Book. In his descriptions of the settlements of the various nations of
      Europe, along that coast, and of the native tribes, and their trade and
      intercourse with the whites, the writer indulges the idea that he may add
      a trifle to the general information of the public. He puts forth his work,
      however, with no higher claims than as a collection of desultory sketches,
      in which he felt himself nowise bound to tell all that it might be
      desirable to know, but only to be accurate in what he does tell. On such
      terms, there is perhaps no very reprehensible audacity in undertaking the
      history of a voyage; and he smiles to find himself, so simply and with so
      little labor, acquiring a title to be enrolled among the authors of books!
    </p>
    <h3>
      APRIL 5, 1845.
    </h3>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      <b>CONTENTS</b>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_TOC"> EXPANDED CONTENTS </a>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>JOURNAL OF AN AFRICAN CRUISER.</b> </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      EXPANDED CONTENTS
    </h2>
    <h3>
      CHAP. I.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Departure&mdash;Mother Carey's Chickens&mdash;The Gulf Stream&mdash;Rapid
      Progress&mdash;The French Admiral's Cook&mdash;Nautical Musicians&mdash;The
      sick Man&mdash;The Burial at Sea&mdash;Arrival at the Canaries&mdash;Santa
      Cruz&mdash;Love and Crime&mdash;Island of Grand Canary&mdash;Troglodytes
      near Las Palmas.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. II.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Nelson's Defeat at Santa Cruz&mdash;The Mantilla&mdash;Arrival at Porto
      Grande&mdash;Poverty of the Inhabitants&mdash;Portuguese Exiles at the
      Cape de Verds&mdash;City of Porto Praya&mdash;Author's Submersion&mdash;Green
      Turtle&mdash;Rainy Season&mdash;Anchor at Cape Mesurado.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. III.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Visit of Governor Roberts, &amp;c.&mdash;Arrival at Cape Palmas&mdash;American
      Missionaries&mdash;Prosperity of the Catholic Mission&mdash;King Freeman,
      and his Royal Robe&mdash;Customs of the Kroo-People&mdash;Condition of
      Native Women.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. IV.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Return to Monrovia&mdash;Sail for Porto Praya&mdash;The Union Hotel&mdash;Reminiscences
      of Famine at the Cape de Verds&mdash;Frolics of Whalemen&mdash;Visit to
      the Island of Antonio&mdash;A Dance&mdash;Fertility of the Island&mdash;A
      Yankee Clockmaker&mdash;A Mountain Ride&mdash;City of Poverson&mdash;Point
      de Sol&mdash;Kindness of the Women&mdash;The handsome Commandant&mdash;A
      Portuguese Dinner.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. V.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Arrival of the Macedonian&mdash;Return to the Coast of Africa&mdash;Emigrants
      to Liberia&mdash;Tornadoes&mdash;Maryland in Liberia&mdash;Nature of its
      Government&mdash;Perils of the Bar&mdash;Mr. Russwurm&mdash;The Grebo
      Tribe&mdash;Manner of disposing of their Dead.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. VI.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Settlement of Sinoe&mdash;Account of a Murder by the Natives&mdash;Arrival
      at Monrovia&mdash;Appearance of the Town&mdash;Temperance&mdash;Law-Suits
      and Pleadings&mdash;Expedition up the St. Paul's River&mdash;Remarks on
      the Cultivation of Sugar&mdash;Prospects of the Coffee-culture in Liberia&mdash;Desultory
      observations on Agriculture.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. VII
    </h3>
    <p>
      High Character of Governor Roberts&mdash;Suspected Slaver&mdash;Dinner on
      Shore&mdash;Facts and Remarks relative to the Slave-Trade&mdash;British
      Philanthropy&mdash;Original cost of a Slave&mdash;Anchor at Sinoe&mdash;Peculiarities
      and distinctive Characteristics of the Fishmen and Bushmen&mdash;The King
      of Appollonia&mdash;Religion and Morality among the Natives&mdash;Influence
      of the Women.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. VIII.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Palaver at Sinoe&mdash;Ejectment of a Horde of Fishmen&mdash;Palaver at
      Settra Kroo&mdash;Mrs. Sawyer&mdash;Objections to the Marriage of
      Missionaries&mdash;A Centipede&mdash;Arrival at Cape Palmas&mdash;Rescue
      of the Sassy-wood drinker&mdash;Hostilities between the Natives and
      Colonists.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. IX.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Palaver with King Freeman&mdash;Remarks on the Influence of Missionaries&mdash;Palaver
      at Rock-Boukir&mdash;Narrative of Captain Farwell's murder&mdash;Scene of
      Embarkation through the Surf&mdash;Sail for Little Berebee.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. X.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Palaver at Little Berebee&mdash;Death of the Interpreter and King Ben
      Cracko and burning of the Town&mdash;Battle with the Natives, and
      Conflagration of several Towns&mdash;Turkey Buzzards&mdash;A Love-Letter&mdash;Moral
      Reflections&mdash;Treaty of Grand Berebee&mdash;Prince Jumbo and his
      Father&mdash;Native system of Expresses&mdash;Curiosity of the Natives.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XI.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Madeira&mdash;Aspect of the Island&mdash;Annual races&mdash;"Hail
      Columbia!"&mdash;Ladies, Cavaliers, and Peasants&mdash;Dissertation upon
      Wines&mdash;The Clerks of Funchal&mdash;Decay of the Wine-Trade&mdash;Cultivation
      of Pine-Trees&mdash;A Night in the Streets&mdash;Beautiful Church&mdash;A
      Sunday-evening Party&mdash;Currency of Madeira.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XII.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Passage back to Liberia&mdash;Coffee Plantations&mdash;Dinner on shore&mdash;Character
      of Colonel Hicks&mdash;Shells and Sentiment&mdash;Visit to the
      Council-chamber&mdash;The New-Georgia Representative&mdash;A Slave-ship&mdash;Expedition
      up the St. Paul's&mdash;Sugar Manufactory&mdash;Maumee's beautiful
      grand-daughter&mdash;The Sleepy Disease&mdash;The Mangrove-tree.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XIII.
    </h3>
    <p>
      The Theatre&mdash;Tribute to Governor Buchanan&mdash;Arrival at Settra
      Kroo&mdash;Jack Purser&mdash;The Mission School&mdash;Cleanliness of the
      Natives&mdash;Uses of the Palm-tree&mdash;Native Money&mdash;Mrs. Sawyer&mdash;Influence
      of her character on the Natives&mdash;Characteristics of English
      Merchant-Captains&mdash;Trade of England with the African Coast.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XIV.
    </h3>
    <p>
      American Trade&mdash;Mode of Advertising, and of making Sales&mdash;Standard
      of Commercial Integrity&mdash;Dealings with Slave-Traders&mdash;Trade with
      the Natives&mdash;King's "Dash"&mdash;Native Commission-Merchants&mdash;The
      Gold Trade&mdash;The Ivory Trade&mdash;The "Round Trade"&mdash;Respectability
      of American Merchant-Captains&mdash;Trade with the American Squadron.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XV.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Jack Purser's wife&mdash;Fever on board&mdash;Arrival at Cape Palmas&mdash;Strange
      figure and equipage of a Missionary&mdash;King George of Grand Bassam&mdash;Intercourse
      with the Natives&mdash;Tahon&mdash;Grand Drewin&mdash;St. Andrew's&mdash;Picaninny
      Lahoo&mdash;Natives attacked by the French&mdash;Visit to King Peter&mdash;Sketches
      of Scenery and People at Cape Lahon.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XVI.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Visit from two English Trading-Captains&mdash;The invisible King of
      Jack-a-Jack&mdash;Human sacrifices&mdash;French fortresses at Grand
      Bassam, at Assinoe, and other points&mdash;Objections to the locality of
      Liberia&mdash;Encroachments on the limits of that Colony&mdash;Arrival in
      Axim&mdash;Sketches of that Settlement&mdash;Dixcove&mdash;Civilized
      Natives&mdash;An Alligator.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XVII.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Dutch Settlement at El Mina&mdash;Appearance of the Town&mdash;Cape Coast
      Castle&mdash;Burial-place of L. E. L.&mdash;An English dinner&mdash;Festivity
      on shipboard&mdash;British, Dutch, and Danish Accra&mdash;Native wives of
      Europeans&mdash;A Royal Princess&mdash;An Armadillo&mdash;Sail for St.
      Thomas&mdash;Aspect of the Island.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XVIII.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Excursion to St. Anne de Chaves&mdash;Mode of drying Coffee&mdash;Black
      Priests&mdash;Madam Domingo's Hotel&mdash;Catering for the Mess&mdash;Man
      swallowed by a Shark&mdash;Letters from home&mdash;Fashionable equipage&mdash;Arrival
      at the Gaboon&mdash;King Glass and Louis Philippe&mdash;Mr. Griswold&mdash;Mr.
      and Mrs. Wilson&mdash;Character of the Gaboon People&mdash;Symptoms of
      illness.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XIX.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Recovery from Fever&mdash;Projected Independence of Liberia&mdash;Remarks
      on Climate and Health&mdash;Peril from Breakers&mdash;African Arts&mdash;Departure
      for the Cape de Verds&mdash;Man Overboard.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XX.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Glimpses of the bottom of the Sea&mdash;The Gar-fish&mdash;The Booby and
      the Mullet&mdash;Improvement of Liberia&mdash;Its prospects&mdash;Higher
      social position of its Inhabitants&mdash;Intercourse between the White and
      Colored. Races&mdash;A night on shore&mdash;Farewell to Liberia&mdash;Reminiscence
      of Robinson Crusoe.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XXI.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Sierra Leone&mdash;Sources of its Population&mdash;Appearance of the Town
      and surrounding Country&mdash;Religious Ceremonies of the Mandingoes&mdash;Treatment
      of liberated Slaves&mdash;Police of Sierra Leone&mdash;Agencies for
      Emigration to the West Indies&mdash;Colored Refugees from the United
      States&mdash;Unhealthiness of Sierra Leone&mdash;Dr. Fergusson&mdash;Splendid
      Church&mdash;Melancholy Fate of a Queen's Chaplain&mdash;Currency&mdash;Probable
      Ruin of the Colony.
    </p>
    <h3>
      CHAP. XXII.
    </h3>
    <p>
      Failure of the American Squadron to capture Slave-Vessels&mdash;Causes of
      that Failure&mdash;High character of the Commodore and Commanders&mdash;Similar
      ill-success of the French Squadron&mdash;Success of the English, and why&mdash;Results
      effected by the American Squadron.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      JOURNAL OF AN AFRICAN CRUISER.
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER I.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Departure&mdash;Mother Carey's Chickens&mdash;The Gulf stream&mdash;Rapid
      Progress&mdash;The French Admiral's Cook&mdash;Nautical Musicians&mdash;The
      Sick Man&mdash;The Burial at Sea&mdash;Arrival at the Canaries&mdash;Santa
      Cruz&mdash;Love and Crime&mdash;Island of Grand Canary&mdash;Troglodytes
      near Las Palmas.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>June</i> 5,1843.&mdash;Towed by the steamer Hercules, we go down the
      harbor of New York, at 7 o'clock A.M. It is the fourth time the ship has
      moved, since she was launched from the Navy Yard at Portsmouth. Her first
      experience of the ocean was a rough one; she was caught in a wintry gale
      from the north-east, dismasted, and towed back into Portsmouth harbor,
      within three days after her departure. The second move brought us to New
      York; the third, from the Navy Yard into the North river; and the fourth
      will probably bring us to an anchorage off Sandy Hook. After a hard winter
      of four months, in New Hampshire, we go to broil on the coast of Africa,
      with ice enough in our blood to keep us comfortably cool for six months at
      least.
    </p>
    <p>
      At 10 A.M. the steamer cast off, and we anchored inside of Sandy Hook; at
      12 Meridian, hoisted the broad pennant of Commodore Perry, and saluted it
      with thirteen guns. At 3 P.M. the ship gets under way, and with a good
      breeze, stands out to sea. Our parting letters are confided to the Pilot.
      That weather-beaten veteran gives you a cordial shake with his broad, hard
      hand, wishes you a prosperous cruise, and goes over the side. His life is
      full of greetings and farewells; the grasp of his hand assures the
      returning mariner that his weary voyage is over; and when the swift pilot
      boat hauls her wind, and leaves you to go on your course alone, you feel
      that the last connecting link with home is broken. On our ship's deck,
      there were perhaps some heart-aches, but no whimpering. Few strain their
      eyes to catch parting glimpses of the receding highlands; it is only the
      green ones who do that. The Old Salt seeks more substantial solace in his
      dinner. It is matter of speculation, moreover, whether much of the misery
      of parting does not, with those unaccustomed to the sea, originate in the
      disturbed state of their stomachs.
    </p>
    <p>
      7.&mdash;We are in the Gulf-stream. The temperature of the water is ten
      degrees above that of the air. Though the ship is deep, being filled with
      stores, and therefore sailing heavily, we are yet taken along eleven knots
      by the wind, and two or three more by the current. Swiftly as we fly,
      however, we are not quite alone upon the waters. Mother Carey's chickens
      follow us continually, dipping into the white foam of our track, to seize
      the food which our keel turns up for them out of the ocean depths.
      Mysterious is the way of this little wanderer over the sea. It is never
      seen on land; and naturalists have yet to discover where it reposes, and
      where it hatches its young; unless we adopt the idea of the poets, that it
      builds its nest upon the turbulent bosom of the deep. It is a sort of
      nautical sister of the fabled bird of Paradise, which was footless, and
      never alighted out of the air. Hundreds of miles from shore, in sunshine
      and in tempest, you may see the Stormy Petrel. Among the unsolvable
      riddles which nature propounds to mankind, we may reckon the question, Who
      is Mother Carey, and where does she rear her chickens?
    </p>
    <p>
      9.&mdash;We are out of the Gulf-stream, and the ship is now rolling
      somewhat less tumultuously than heretofore. For four days, we have been
      blest with almost too fair a wind. A strong breeze, right aft, has been
      taking us more than two hundred and forty miles a day on our course. But
      the incessant and uneasy motion of the ship deprives us of any steady
      comfort. In spite of all precautions, tables, chairs, and books, have
      tumbled about in utter confusion, and the monotony is enlivened by the
      breaking of bottles and crash of crockery. As some consolation, our Log
      Book shows that we have made more than half of a thousand miles, within
      the last forty-eight hours. Land travelling, with all the advantages of
      railroads, can hardly compete with the continual diligence of a ship
      before a prosperous breeze.
    </p>
    <p>
      11.&mdash;Spoke an American brig from Liverpool, bound for New York.
      Though the boat was called away, and our letters were ready, it was all at
      once determined not to board her; and, after asking the captain to report
      us, we stood on our course again. The newspapers will tell our friends
      something of our whereabouts; or, at least, that on a certain day, we were
      encountered at a certain point upon the sea.
    </p>
    <p>
      13.&mdash;Wind still fair, and weather always fine. We have not tacked
      ship once since leaving Sandy Hook, and are almost ready to quarrel with
      the continual fair wind. There is nothing else to find fault with, except
      the performances of our French cook in the wardroom, who came on board
      just before we left New York, and made us believe that we had obtained a
      treasure. He told us that he had cooked for a French Admiral. We swore him
      to secrecy on that point, lest the Commodore should be disposed to engage
      the services of so distinguished an artist for his own table. But our
      self-congratulations were not of long continuance. The sugared omelet
      passed with slight remark. The beefsteak smothered in onions was merely
      prohibited in future. But when, on the second day, the potatoes were
      served with mashed lemon-peel, the general discontent burst forth; and we
      scolded till we laughed again at the dilemma in which we found ourselves.
      Next to being without food, is the calamity of being subjected, in the
      middle of the Atlantic, to the diabolical arts of the French Admiral's
      cook. At sea, the arrangements of the table are of far more importance
      than on shore. There are so few incidents, that one's dinner becomes, what
      Dr. Johnson affirmed it always to be, the affair of which a man thinks
      oftenest in the course of the day.
    </p>
    <p>
      16.&mdash;All day, the wind has been ahead, and very light. This evening,
      a dead calm is upon the sea; but the sky is cloudless, and the air pure
      and soft. All the well are enjoying the fine weather. The commodore and
      captain walk the poop-deck; the other officers, except the lieutenant and
      young gentlemen of the watch, are smoking on the forecastle, or
      promenading the quarter-deck. A dozen steady old salts are rolling along
      the gangways; and the men are clustered in knots between the guns,
      talking, laughing, or listening to the yarns of their comrades&mdash;an
      amusement to which sailors are as much addicted as the Sultan in the
      Arabian Nights. But music is the order of the evening. Though a band is
      not allowed to a ship of our class, there are always good musicians to be
      found among the reckless and jolly fellows composing a man-of-war's crew.
      A big landsman from Utica, and a dare-devil topman from Cape Cod, are the
      leading vocalists; Symmes, the ship's cook, plays an excellent violin; and
      the commodore's steward is not to be surpassed upon the tambourine. A
      little black fellow, whose sobriquet is Othello, manages the castanets,
      and there is a tolerable flute played by one of the afterguard. The
      concerts usually commence with sentimental songs, such as "Home, sweet
      Home," and the Canadian Boat Song: but the comic always carries off the
      palm; "Jim along Josey," "Lucy Long," "Old Dan Tucker," and a hundred
      others of the same character, are listened to delightedly by the crowd of
      men and boys collected round the fore-hatch, and always ready to join in
      the choruses. Thus a sound of mirth floats far and wide over the twilight
      sea, and would seem to indicate that all goes well among us.
    </p>
    <p>
      But the delicious atmosphere, and the amusements of the ship, bring not
      joy to all on board. There are sick men swinging uneasily in their
      hammocks; and one poor fellow, whose fever threatens to terminate fatally,
      tosses painfully in his cot. His messmates gently bathe his hot brow, and,
      watching every movement, nurse him as tenderly as a woman. Strange, that
      the rude heart of a sailor should be found to possess such tenderness as
      we seldom ask or find, in those of our own sex, on land! There, we leave
      the gentler humanities of life to woman; here, we are compelled to imitate
      her characteristics, as well as our sterner nature will permit.
    </p>
    <p>
      22.&mdash;The sick man died last night, and was buried to-day. His history
      was revealed to no one. Where was his home, or whether he has left friends
      to mourn his death, are alike unknown. Dying, he kept his own counsel, and
      was content to vanish out of life, even as a speck of foam melts back into
      the ocean. At 11 A.M., for the first time, in a cruise likely to be fatal
      to many on board, the boatswain piped "all hands to bury the dead!" The
      sailor's corpse, covered with the union of his country's flag, was placed
      in the gangway. Two hundred and fifty officers and men stood around,
      uncovered, and reverently listened to the beautiful and solemn burial
      service, as it was read by one of the officers. The body was committed to
      the deep, while the ship dashed onward, and had left the grave far behind,
      even before the last words of the service were uttered. The boatswain
      "piped down," and all returned to their duties sadly, and with thoughtful
      countenances.
    </p>
    <p>
      23.&mdash;At 4 A.M., the island of Palma and the Peak of Teneriffe are in
      full sight, though the lofty summit of the mountain is one hundred miles
      distant.
    </p>
    <p>
      24.&mdash;At 5 A.M., anchored at Santa Cruz, capital of the island of
      Teneriffe. The health-officer informed us that we must ride out a
      quarantine of eight days. A fine precaution, considering that we are
      direct from New York! After breakfast, I went to the mole, to see the
      Consular Agent, on duty. While waiting in our boat, we were stared at by
      thirty or forty loafers (a Yankee phrase, but strictly applicable to these
      foreign vagabonds), of the most wretched kind. Some were dressed in coarse
      shirts and trowsers, and some had only one of these habiliments. None
      interested me, except a dirty, swarthy boy, with most brilliant black
      eyes, who lay flat on his stomach, and gazed at us in silence. His
      elf-like glance sparkles brightly in my memory.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of the seamen in our boat spoke to the persons on shore in Spanish. I
      inquired whether that were his mother-tongue, and learned that he was a
      native of Mahon. On questioning him further, I ascertained that he was
      concerned in a tragedy of which I had often heard, while on the
      Mediterranean station, two or three years ago. A beautiful girl of
      sixteen, of highly respectable family, fell in love with a young man, her
      inferior in social rank, though of reputable standing. The affair was kept
      secret between them. At length, the lover became jealous, and, one
      evening, called his mistress out of her father's house, and stabbed her
      five or six times. She died instantly, and her murderer fled. It was
      believed in Mahon that he was drowned by falling overboard from the vessel
      in which he escaped. Nevertheless, that murderer was the man with whom I
      was speaking in the boat, now bearing another name, and a common sailor of
      our ship. He told me his real name; and I heard, afterwards, that, when
      drunk, he had confessed the murder to one of his messmates.
    </p>
    <p>
      This incident illustrates what I have often thought, that the private
      history of a man-of-war's crew, if truly told, would be full of high
      romance, varied with stirring incident, and too often darkened with, deep
      and deadly crime. Many go to sea with the old Robinson Crusoe spirit,
      seeking adventure for its own sake; many, to escape the punishment of
      guilt, which has made them outlaws of the land; some, to drown the memory
      of slighted love; while others flee from the wreck of their broken
      fortunes ashore, to hazard another shipwreck on the deep. The jacket of
      the common sailor often covers a figure that has walked Broadway in a
      fashionable coat. An officer sometimes sees his old school-fellow and
      playmate taken to the gangway and flogged. Many a blackguard on board has
      been bred in luxury; and many a good seaman has been a slaver and a
      pirate. It is well for the ship's company, that the sins of individuals do
      not, as in the days of Jonas, stir up tempests that threaten the
      destruction of the whole.
    </p>
    <p>
      The island of Grand Canary is one of the most interesting of the group at
      which we have now arrived. The population of its capital, the city of Las
      Palmas, is variously estimated at from nine thousand inhabitants, to twice
      that number. The streets, however, have none of the bustle and animation
      that would enliven an American town, of similar size. Around the city
      there is an aspect of great fertility; fields of corn and grain,
      palm-trees, and vineyards, occupy the valleys among the hills, and extend
      along the shores, twining a glad green wreath about the circuit of the
      island. The vines of Canary produce a wine which, two or three centuries
      ago, was held in higher estimation than at present, and is supposed by
      some to have been the veritable "sack" that so continually moistened the
      throat of Falstaff. The very name of Canary is a cheerful one, associated
      as it is with the idea of bounteous vineyards, and of those little golden
      birds that make music all over the world.
    </p>
    <p>
      The high hills that surround the city of Las Palmas are composed of soft
      stone, the yielding quality of which has caused these cliffs to be
      converted to a very singular purpose. The poorer people, who can find no
      shelter above ground, burrow into the sides of the hill, and thus form
      caves for permanent habitation, where they dwell like swallows in a
      sand-bank. Judging from the number of these excavations, the mouths of
      which appear on the hill-sides, there cannot be less than a thousand
      persons living in the manner here described. Not only the destitute
      inhabitants of Grand Canary, but vagabonds from Teneriffe and the other
      islands, creep thus into the heart of the rock; and children play about
      the entrances of the caverns as merrily as at a cottage-door: while, in
      the gloom of the interior, you catch a glimpse of household furniture, and
      women engaged in domestic avocations. It is like discovering a world
      within the world.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER II.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Nelson's defeat at Santa Cruz&mdash;The Mantilla&mdash;Arrival at Porto
      Grande&mdash;Poverty of the inhabitants&mdash;Portuguese Exiles at the
      Cape de Verds&mdash;City of Porto Prayo&mdash;Author's submersion&mdash;Green
      Turtle&mdash;Rainy Season&mdash;Anchor at Cape Mesurado.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>July</i> 1.&mdash;Ashore at Santa Cruz. The population of the city is
      reckoned at six or eight thousand. The streets are clean, and the houses
      built in the Spanish fashion. Camels are frequent in the streets.
    </p>
    <p>
      The landing at the Mole is generally bad, as Nelson found to his cost. It
      is easy to perceive that, even in ordinary times, the landing of a large
      party, though unopposed, must be a work of considerable difficulty. How
      much more arduous, then, was the enterprise of the great Naval Hero, who
      made his attack in darkness, and in the face of a well-manned battery,
      which swept away all who gained foot-hold on the shore! The latter
      obstacle might have been overcome by English valor, under Nelson's
      guidance; but night, and the heavy surf, were the enemies that gave him
      his first and only defeat. The little fort, under whose guns he was
      carried by his step-son, after the loss of his arm, derived its chief
      interest, in my eyes, from that circumstance. The glory of the great
      Admiral sheds a lustre even upon the spot where success deserted him. In
      the Cathedral of Santa Cruz are to be seen two English flags, which were
      taken on that occasion, and are still pointed out with pride by the
      inhabitants. I saw them five years ago, when they hung from the walls,
      tattered and covered with dust; they are now enclosed in glass cases, to
      which the stranger's attention is eagerly directed by the boys who swarm
      around him. The defeat of Nelson took place on the anniversary of the
      patron-saint of Santa Cruz; a coincidence which has added not a little to
      the saint's reputation. It was by no means his first warlike exploit; for
      he is said to have come to the assistance of the inhabitants, and routed
      the Moors, when pressing the city hard, in the olden time.
    </p>
    <p>
      We wandered about the city until evening, and then walked in the Plaza.
      Here the ladies and gentlemen of the city promenade for an hour or two,
      occasionally seating themselves on the stone benches which skirt the
      square. Like other Spanish ladies, the lovely brunettes of Santa Cruz
      generally wear the mantilla, so much more becoming than the bonnet. There
      are just enough of bonnets worn by foreigners, and travelled Spanish
      dames, to show what deformities they are, when contrasted with the
      graceful veil. This head-dress could only be used in a climate like that
      of Teneriffe, where there are no extremes of heat or cold. It is a proverb
      that there is no winter and no summer here. So equable and moderate is the
      temperature, that, we were assured, a person might, without inconvenience,
      wear either thick or thin clothing, all the year round. With such a
      climate, and with a fertile soil, it would seem that this must be almost a
      Paradise. There is a great obstruction, however, to the welfare of the
      inhabitants, in the want of water. It rains so seldom that the ground is
      almost burnt up, and many cattle actually perish from thirst. It is said
      that no less than thirty thousand persons have emigrated from the island,
      within three years.
    </p>
    <p>
      The productions of Teneriffe, for export, are wine and barilla. Of the
      first, the greater part is sent to England, Russia and the United States.
      About thirty thousand pipes are made annually, of which two thirds are
      exported. Little or no wine is produced on the southern slope of the
      island. The hills around Santa Cruz are little more than rugged peaks of
      naked rock. The scenery is wild and bold, but sterile; and scattered
      around are stupendous hills of lava, the products of former volcanic
      eruptions, but which have, for ages, been cold and wave-washed.
    </p>
    <p>
      14.&mdash;Arrived at Porto Grande, in the island of St. Vincent's, one of
      the Cape de Verds. The harbor is completely landlocked by the island of
      St. Antonio, which stretches across its mouth. Still, there is, at times,
      a considerable swell. The appearance of the land is barren, desolate, and
      unpromising in the highest degree; and the town is in keeping with the
      scenery. Eighty or ninety miserable hovels, constructed of small, loose
      stones, in the manner of our stone-fences, stand in rows, with some
      pretence of regularity. Besides the Governor and his aid, there are here
      five white men, or rather Portuguese (for their claim to white blood is
      not apparent in their complexions), viz. the Collector, the American
      Consular Agent, a shop-keeper, whose goods are all contained in a couple
      of trunks, and two private soldiers. We called to see the Governor, and
      were politely received; he offered seats, and did the honors of the place
      with dignity and affability. His pay is one dollar per diem. He has five
      soldiers under his command, two of them Portuguese, and three native
      negroes, one of whom has a crooked leg.
    </p>
    <p>
      The people here are wretchedly poor, subsisting chiefly by fishing, and by
      their precarious gains from ships which anchor in the port. The Collector
      informed me that there had been sixty whale-ships in the harbor, within
      the past year. The profits accruing from thence, however, are very
      inadequate to the comfortable support of the inhabitants. The adults are
      mostly covered with rags, while many of the children are entirely naked;
      the cats and dogs (whose condition may be taken as no bad test of the
      degree of bodily comfort in the community) are lean and skeleton-like. As
      to religion, I saw nothing to remind me of it, except the ruins of an old
      church. There has been no priest since the death of one who was drowned, a
      few years ago, near Bird Island, a large rock, at the mouth of the harbor.
      At the time of this fatal mishap, the reverend father was on a drunken
      frolic, in company with some colored women.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cape de Verd Islands derive their name from the nearest point of the
      mainland of Africa; they are under the dominion of Portugal, and,
      notwithstanding their poverty, furnish a considerable revenue to that
      country, over and above the expenses of the Colonial Government. This
      revenue comes chiefly from the duties levied upon all imported articles,
      and from the orchilla trade, which is monopolized by the Government at
      home, and produces 50,000 dollars per annum. Another source of profit is
      found in the tithes for the support of the Church, which, in some, if not
      all the islands, have been seized by the Government (under a pledge for
      the maintenance of the clergy), and are farmed out annually. These islands
      supply the Portuguese with a place of honorable exile for officers who may
      be suspected of heresy in politics, and hostility to existing
      institutions. They are advanced a step in rank, to repay them (and a poor
      requital it is) for the change from the delicious climate of Portugal, and
      the gaieties of Lisbon, to the dreary solitude, the arid soil, and burning
      and fever-laden air of the Cape de Verds. It is a melancholy thought, that
      many an active intellect&mdash;many a generous and aspiring spirit&mdash;may
      have been doomed to linger and perish here, chained, as it were, to the
      rocks, like Prometheus, merely for having dreamed of kindling the fire of
      liberty in their native land.
    </p>
    <p>
      22.&mdash;We have spent some days at Porto Praya, the capital of St. Jago,
      the largest of the Cape de Verd islands; whence we sail to-day. A large
      part of the population is composed of negroes and mulattoes, whose
      appearance indicates that they are intemperate, dissolute, and vile. The
      Portuguese residing here are generally but little better; as may be
      supposed from the fact, that most of those who were not banished from
      Portugal, for political or other offences, came originally to engage in
      the slave-trade.
    </p>
    <p>
      Going ashore to-day, we beached the boat, and a large negro, with a ragged
      red shirt, waded out and took me on his shoulders. There is no position so
      absurd, nor in which a man feels himself so utterly helpless, as when thus
      dependant on the strength and sure-footedness of a fellow-biped. As we
      left the boat, a heavy "roller" came in. The negro lost his footing, and I
      my balance, and down we plunged into the surf. My sable friend seemed to
      consider it a point of duty to hold stoutly by my legs, the inevitable
      tendency of which manoeuvre was to keep my head under water. Having no
      taste for a watery death, under these peculiar circumstances, I freed
      myself by a vigorous kick, sprang to my feet, and seizing the negro by the
      "ambrosial curls," pushed his head in turn under the surf. But seeing the
      midshipmen and boat's crew laughing, noiselessly but heartily, at my
      expense, the ludicrousness of the whole affair struck me so forcibly that
      I joined in their mirth, and waded ashore as fast as possible. An
      abolitionist, perhaps, might draw a moral from the story, and say that
      all, who ride on the shoulders of the African race, deserve nothing better
      than a similar overthrow. Sailed from Porto Praya. The bay of this port is
      a good one, except in south-east gales, when the anchorage is dangerous.
      The town, called Villa de Praya, contains about two thousand inhabitants
      of every shade, the dark greatly predominating. Many vessels from Europe
      and the United States, bound to India, Brazil, or Africa, find this a
      convenient place to procure water and fresh provisions, and bring, in
      return, much money into the city. There are three hundred troops here,
      nearly all black, and commanded by forty Portuguese officers. The men are
      under severe discipline, are tolerably well dressed, and make a soldierly
      appearance. It is said that a St. Jago soldier formerly wore only a cocked
      hat, being otherwise in a state of nature; but I cannot pretend to have
      seen any instance of this extreme scantiness of equipment.
    </p>
    <p>
      23.&mdash;Saw a large green turtle asleep on the surface of the water. One
      of our boats went alongside of him, and two men attempted to turn him over
      with boat-hooks. He struggled successfully, however, to keep himself
      "right side up," and, in a few moments, plunged beneath the surface. Once
      upon his back, he would have been powerless and a prisoner, and we might
      have hoped for the advantage of his presence at our mess-table.
    </p>
    <p>
      24.&mdash;At noon, the first rain came. It continued heavy and
      unremitting, for twenty-four hours, after which there was a glimpse of the
      blue sky. Two startling thunder-claps burst over the ship, at about 9
      o'clock, A.M. Last night, at 10, a heavy plunge carried away both our
      chain bobstays at once, and all hands were turned up in the rain, to
      secure the bowsprit.
    </p>
    <p>
      The sanitary regulations of the squadron, induced by the commencement of
      the rainy season, cause considerable mirth and some growling. One rule is,
      that every man shall protect himself with flannel next his person, and at
      night shall also wear a cloth-jacket and trowsers. Stoves are placed on
      the berth-deck, to dry the atmosphere below. It is a curious fact, that,
      in March last, at Portsmouth, N. H., with the thermometer at zero, we were
      deprived of stoves the moment the powder came on board; while now in the
      month of July, on the coast of Africa, sweltering at eighty degrees of
      Fahrenheit, the fires are lighted throughout the ship.
    </p>
    <p>
      27.&mdash;Continual rain for the last three days. All miserable, but
      getting used to it.
    </p>
    <p>
      29.&mdash;A clear day, and comfortably cool. Wind fair.
    </p>
    <p>
      30.&mdash;Made land, and saw an English brig of war. Commander Oakes, of
      the Ferret, came on board.
    </p>
    <p>
      31.&mdash;Made Cape Mount.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>August</i> 1.&mdash;At 12, meridian, anchored at Cape Mesurado, off the
      town of Monrovia. We find at anchor here the U. S. brig Porpoise, and a
      French barque, as well as a small schooner, bearing the Liberian flag.
      This consists of stripes and a cross, and may be regarded as emblematical
      of the American origin of the colony, and of the Christian philanthropy to
      which it owes its existence. Thirty or forty Kroomen came alongside. Three
      officers of the Porpoise visited us. All are anxious to get back to the
      United States. They coincide, however, in saying that, with simple
      precautions, the health of this station is as good as that of any other.
      They have had only a single case of fever on board; and, in that instance,
      the patient was a man who ran away, and spent a night ashore.
    </p>
    <p>
      My old acquaintance, Captain Cooper, came on board, and is to be employed
      as pilot.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER III.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Visit of Governor Roberts, &amp;c.&mdash;Arrival at Cape Palmas&mdash;American
      Missionaries&mdash;Prosperity of the Catholic Mission&mdash;King Freeman,
      and his royal robe&mdash;Customs of the Kroo-people&mdash;Condition of
      native women.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>August</i> 2.&mdash;We were visited by Governor Roberts, Doctor Day,
      and General Lewis, the latter being colonial secretary, and military chief
      of the settlement. They looked well, and welcomed me back to Liberia with
      the cordiality of old friendship. The Governor was received by the
      commodore, captain, and officers, and saluted with eleven guns. He and his
      suite dined in the cabin, and some of the officers of the Porpoise in the
      ward-room. In the evening, we brought out all our forces for the amusement
      of our distinguished guests. First, the negro band sang "Old Dan Tucker,"
      "Jim along Josey," and other ditties of the same class, accompanied by
      violin and tambourine. Then Othello played monkey, and gave a series of
      recitations. The French cook sang with great spirit and skill. The
      entertainments of the evening, as the theatrical bills expressed it,
      concluded with Ma Normandie and other beautiful songs and airs well
      executed by the French cook, accompanied by Symmes on the violin, and a
      landsman on the flute.
    </p>
    <p>
      5.&mdash;Sailed for Cape Palmas, in company with the Porpoise.
    </p>
    <p>
      9.&mdash;Anchored at Cape Palmas. We were boarded by Kroo-men, in eight or
      ten canoes. While the thermometer stood at 75 or 80 degrees, these naked
      boatmen were shivering, and seemed absolutely to suffer with cold; and
      such is the effect of the climate upon our own physical systems, that we
      find woollen garments comfortable at the same temperature.
    </p>
    <p>
      Visited and lunched with Governor Rasswurm. Called on Mr. James, a colored
      missionary, now occupying the house of Mr. Wilson, who has lately removed
      to Gaboon river. Mr. James presented us with some ebony, and a few Grebo
      books. He informed us that the fever had visited him more or less
      severely, as often as once in four weeks during seven years. This may
      truly be called a feverish life! He is about to remove to Gaboon.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Catholic Mission seems to have driven the Presbyterian from the
      ground. We called on Mr. Kelly, a Catholic priest from Baltimore, and the
      only white man of the Mission at present in Africa. Preparations, however,
      have already been made for twenty more, principally French, whose arrival
      is expected within a year, and who will establish themselves at different
      points along the coast. Mr. Kelly is now finishing a very commodious
      house, on a scale of some magnitude, with piazzas around the whole. There
      is evidently no lack of money. The funds for the support of the Catholic
      mission are derived principally through Lyons, in France; and the
      enterprise is said to be under the patronage of the king. The abundant
      pecuniary means which the priests have at command, and the imposing and
      attractive ceremonies of their mode of worship&mdash;so well fitted to
      produce an effect on uncultivated natures, where appeals either to the
      intellect or the heart would be thrown away&mdash;are among the chief
      causes of their success. It is said, too, and perhaps with truth, that as
      many converts are made, among the natives, by presents, as by persuasion.
      But no small degree of the prosperity of the mission must be attributed to
      the superior shrewdness and ability of the persons engaged in it&mdash;to
      their skilful adaptation of their precepts and modes of instruction to the
      people with whom they have to deal, and to their employment of the maxims
      of worldly policy in aid of their religious views. These qualities and
      rules of conduct have characterized the Catholic missionaries in all ages,
      in all parts of the world, and in their dealings with every variety of the
      human race; and their success has everywhere been commensurate with the
      superiority, in a merely temporal point of view, of the system on which
      they acted.
    </p>
    <p>
      Before returning on board, we called on King Freeman, who received us,
      seated on a chair which was placed in front of his house. His majesty's
      royal robe was no other than an old uniform frock, which I had given him
      three years ago. We accepted the chairs which he offered us, and held a
      palaver, while some twenty of his subjects stood respectfully around. He
      remembered my former visit to the colony, and appeared very glad to see me
      again. His town was nearly deserted, the people having gone out to gather
      rice. About the royal residence, and in the vicinity, I saw thirty or
      forty cattle, most of them young, and all remarkably small. It is said,
      and I believe it to be a fact, that cattle, and even fowls, when brought
      from the interior, take the coast-fever, and often perish with it. Certain
      it is that they do not flourish.
    </p>
    <p>
      11.&mdash;King Freeman came on board, dressed in his uniform frock, with
      two epaulettes, a redcap, and checked trowsers. He received some powder
      and bread from the Commodore, and some trifles from the ward-room.
    </p>
    <p>
      12.&mdash;Joe Davis brought his son on board to "learn sense." In pursuit
      of this laudable object, the young man is to make a cruise with us. The
      father particularly requested that his son might be flogged, saying,
      "Spose you lick him, you gib him sense!" On such a system, a man-of-war is
      certainly no bad school of improvement.
    </p>
    <p>
      13.&mdash;A delightful day, clear sky, and cool breeze. We sailed from
      Cape Palmas yesterday, steering up the coast.
    </p>
    <p>
      I have been conversing with young Ben Johnson, one of our Kroomen, on the
      conjugal and other customs of his countrymen. These constitute quite a
      curious object of research. The Kroomen are indispensable in carrying on
      the commerce and maritime business of the African coast. When a Kroo-boat
      comes alongside, you may buy the canoe, hire the men at a moment's
      warning, and retain them in your service for months. They expend no time
      nor trouble in providing their equipment, since it consists merely of a
      straw hat and a piece of white or colored cotton girded about their loins.
      In their canoes, they deposit these girdles in the crowns of their hats;
      nor is it unusual, when a shower threatens them on shore, to see them
      place this sole garment in the same convenient receptacle, and then make
      for shelter. When rowing a boat, or paddling a canoe, it is their custom
      to sing; and, as the music goes on, they seem to become invigorated,
      applying their strength cheerfully, and with limbs as unwearied as their
      voices. One of their number leads in recitative, and the whole company
      respond in the chorus. The subject of the song is a recital of the
      exploits of the men, their employments, their intended movements, the news
      of the coast, and the character of their employers. It is usual, in these
      extemporary strains, for the Kroomen attached to a man-of-war to taunt,
      with good-humored satire, their friends who are more laboriously employed
      in merchant vessels, and not so well fed and paid.
    </p>
    <p>
      Their object in leaving home, and entering into the service of navigators,
      is generally to obtain the means of purchasing wives, the number of whom
      constitutes a man's importance. The sons of "gentlemen" (for there is such
      a distinction of rank among them) never labor at home, but do not hesitate
      to go away, for a year or two, and earn something to take to their
      families. On the return of these wanderers&mdash;not like the prodigal
      son, but bringing wealth to their kindred&mdash;great rejoicings are
      instituted. A bullock is killed by the head of the family, guns are fired,
      and two or three days are spent in the performance of various plays and
      dances. The "boy" gives all his earnings to his father, and places himself
      again under the parental authority. The Krooman of maturer age, on his
      return from an expedition of this kind, buys a wife, or perhaps more than
      one, and distributes the rest of his accumulated gains among his
      relatives. In a week, he has nothing left but his wives and his house.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
Age is more respected by the Africans than by any other people. Even if
the son be forty years old, he seldom seeks to emancipate himself from the
paternal government. If a young man falls in love, he, in the first place,
consults his father. The latter makes propositions to the damsel's father,
who, if his daughter agree to the match, announces the terms of purchase.
The price varies in different places, and is also influenced by other
circumstances, such as the respectability and power of the family, and the
beauty and behavior of the girl. The arrangements here described are often
made when the girl is only five or six years of age, in which case she
remains with her friends until womanhood, and then goes to the house of
her bridegroom.

 Meantime, her family receive the stipulated price, and are responsible
for her good behavior. Should she prove faithless, and run away, her
purchase-money must be refunded by her friends, who, in their turn, have a
claim upon the family of him who seduces or harbors her. If prompt
satisfaction be not made (which, however, is generally the case), there
will be a "big palaver," and a much heavier expense for damages and costs.
If, after the commencement of married life, the husband is displeased with
his wife's conduct, he complains to her father, who either takes her back,
and repays the dowry, or more frequently advises that she be flogged. In
the latter alternative, she is tied, starved, and severely beaten; a mode
of conjugal discipline which generally produces the desired effect.
</pre>
    <p>
      Should the wife be suspected of infidelity, the husband may charge her
      with it, and demand that she drink the poisonous decoction of sassy-wood,
      which is used as the test of guilt or innocence, in all cases that are
      considered too uncertain for human judgment. If her stomach free itself
      from the fatal draught by vomiting, she is declared innocent, and is taken
      back by her family without repayment of the dower. On the other hand, if
      the poison begin to take effect, she is pronounced guilty; an emetic is
      administered in the shape of common soap; and her husband may, at his
      option, either send her home, or cut off her nose and ears.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
There is one sad discrepancy in the moral system of these people, as
regards the virtue of the women. No disgrace is imputed to the wife who
admits the immoral advances of a white man, provided it be done with the
knowledge and consent of her husband. The latter, in whose eyes the white
man is one of a distinct and superior order of beings, usually considers
himself honored by an affair of this nature, and makes it likewise a
matter of profit. All proposals, in view of such a connection, must pass
through the husband; nor, it is affirmed, is there any hazard of wounding
his delicacy, or awakening his resentment, whatever be his rank and
respectability. The violated wife returns to the domestic roof with
undiminished honor, and confines herself as rigidly within the limits of
her nuptial vow, as if this singular suspension of it had never taken
place.

 In spite of the degradation indicated by the above customs, the
Kroo-women are rather superior to other native females, and seem to occupy
a higher social position. The wife first married holds the purse, directs
the household affairs, and rules the other women, who labor diligently for
the benefit of their common husband and master. Their toil constitutes his
wealth. It is usual for a man to live two, three, or four days, with each
of his wives in turn. As old age advances, he loses the control of his
female household, most of the members of which run away, unless he is wise
enough to dispose of them (as usage permits) to his more youthful
relatives. As a Krooman of sixty or seventy often has wives in their
teens, it is not to be wondered at that they should occasionally show a
disposition to rove.
</pre>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER IV.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Return to Monrovia&mdash;Sail for Porto Praya&mdash;The Union Hotel&mdash;Reminiscences
      of famine at the Cape de Verds&mdash;Frolics of Whalemen&mdash;Visit to
      the island of St. Antonio&mdash;A dance&mdash;Fertility of the island&mdash;A
      Yankee clock-maker&mdash;A mountain ride&mdash;City of Poverson&mdash;Point
      de Sol&mdash;Kindness of the women&mdash;The handsome commandant&mdash;A
      Portuguese dinner.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>August</i> 14.&mdash;Passed near Sinoe, a colonial settlement, but did
      not show our colors. An English merchant brig was at anchor. Our pilot
      observed, that this settlement was not in a flourishing condition, because
      it received no great "<i>resistance</i>" from the Colonization Society. Of
      course, he meant to say, "<i>assistance</i>;" but there was an
      unintentional philosophy in the remark. Many plants thrive best in
      adversity.
    </p>
    <p>
      Anchored at the river Sesters, and sent a boat ashore. Two canoes paddled
      alongside, and their head-men came on board. One was a beautifully formed
      man, and walked the deck with a picturesque dignity of aspect and motion.
      He had more the movement of an Indian, than any negro I ever saw. Two men
      were left in each boat, to keep her alongside, and wait the movements of
      their master. They kneel in the boat, and sit on their heels. When a
      biscuit is thrown to them, they put it on their thighs, and thence eat it
      at their leisure.
    </p>
    <p>
      16.&mdash;Ashore at Monrovia. The buildings look dilapidated, and the
      wooden walls are in a state of decay. Houses of stone are coming into
      vogue. There is a large stone court-house, intended likewise for a
      Legislative Hall. What most interested me, was an African pony, a
      beautiful animal, snow white, with a head as black as ebony. I also saw
      five men chained together, by the neck; three colonists and two natives,
      with an overseer superintending them. They had been splitting stone for
      Government.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
A gun from the ship gave the signal for our return. Going on board, we got
under way, and sailed for Porto Praya.

 20.&mdash;For four days, we have had much rain; and I have seldom visited the
deck, except when duty called me. Fortunately, Governor Roberts had lent
me the report of the Committee of Parliament, on the Western Coast of
Africa, the perusal of which has afforded me both pleasant and profitable
occupation. It is an excellent work, full of facts, from men who have
spent years on the coast.
</pre>
    <p>
      21.&mdash;Wind still favorable. The day is sunny, and all are on deck to
      enjoy the air. Damp clothes hang in the rigging to-day, and mouldy boots
      and shoes fill the boats.
    </p>
    <p>
      24.&mdash;We find ourselves again off the harbor of Porto Praya. I landed
      in quest of news, and heard of the death of Mr. Legare, and the loss of
      the store-ship, at this port. All hands were saved, but with the sacrifice
      of several thousand dollars' worth of property, besides the vessel.
    </p>
    <p>
      On approaching the shore, three flags are observed to be flying in the
      town. One is the consular flag of our own nation; another is the banner of
      Portugal; and the third, being blue, white, and blue, is apt to puzzle a
      stranger, until he reads UNION HOTEL, in letters a foot long. When last at
      Porto Praya, a few friends and myself took some slight refreshment at the
      hotel, and were charged so exorbitantly, that we forswore all visits to
      the house in future. To-day, the keeper stopt me in the street, and begged
      the favor of our patronage. On my representing the enormity of his former
      conduct, he declared that it was all a mistake; that he was the master of
      the hotel, and was unfortunately absent at the time. I was pleased with
      this effrontery, having paid the exorbitant charge into his own hands, not
      a month before. It is delightful, in these remote, desolate, and
      semi-barbarous regions, to meet with characteristics that remind us of a
      more polished and civilized land.
    </p>
    <p>
      The streets are hot and deserted, and the town more than ordinarily dull,
      as most of the inhabitants are out planting. The court has gone to
      Buonavista, on account of the unhealthiness of Porta Praya, at this season
      of the year. A few dozen scrubby trees have been planted in the large
      square, but, though protected by palings and barrels, have not reached the
      height of two feet. In the centre stands a marble monument, possibly
      intended for a fountain, but wholly destitute of water.
    </p>
    <p>
      25.&mdash;The boat went ashore again, and brought off the consul, and some
      stores. We then made sail, passing to the windward of all the islands, and
      reached our former anchorage at Porto Grande.
    </p>
    <p>
      28.&mdash;There are one barque and three brigs, all American whalers, in
      the harbor of Porto Grande. They have been out from three to six months,
      and are here for water, bad though it be, and fresh provisions. Their
      inducements to visit this port, are the goodness of the harbor, and the
      smallness of the port charges. No consular fee has been paid until now,
      when, an agent being appointed, each vessel pays him a perquisite of four
      dollars.
    </p>
    <p>
      This group of islands is chiefly interesting to Americans, as being the
      resort of our whale-ships, to refit and obtain supplies, and of other
      vessels trading to the coast of Africa. Little was generally known of
      them, however, in America, until 1832, when a long-continued drought
      parched up the fields, destroyed the crops, and reduced the whole
      population to the verge of death, by famine. Not less than ten thousand
      did actually perish of hunger; and the remainder were saved only by the
      timely, prompt and bountiful supplies, sent out from every part of the
      United States. I well remember the thrill of compassion that pervaded the
      community at home, on hearing that multitudes were starving in the Cape de
      Verd islands. Without pausing to inquire who they were, or whether
      entitled to our assistance, by any other than the all-powerful claim of
      wretchedness, the Americans sent vessel after vessel, laden with food,
      which was gratuitously distributed to the poor. The supplies were liberal
      and unremitted, until the rains returned, and gave the usual crops to the
      cultivators.
    </p>
    <p>
      Twelve years have passed since that dismal famine; but the memory of the
      aid extended by Americans has not yet faded, nor seems likely to fade,
      from the minds of those who were succored in their need. I have heard men,
      who were then saved from starvation, speak strongly and feelingly on the
      subject, with quivering lip and faltering voice. Women, likewise, with
      streaming eyes, to this day, invoke blessings on the foreign land that fed
      their children, when there was no other earthly help. England, though
      nearer, and in more intimate connection with these islands, sent not a
      mouthful of food; and Portugal, the mother country, shipped only one or
      two small cargoes to be sold; while America fed the starving thousands,
      gratuitously, for months. Our consul at Porto Praya, Mr. Gardner, after
      making a strong and successful appeal to the sympathies of his own
      countrymen, distributed his own stores to the inhabitants, until he was
      well-nigh beggared. He enjoys the only reward he sought, in the approval
      of his conscience, as well as the gratitude of the community; and America,
      too, may claim more true glory from this instance of general benevolence,
      pervading the country from one end to the other, than from any victory in
      our annals.
    </p>
    <p>
      29.&mdash;Ashore again. An ox for our ship was driven in from the
      mountains by three or four horsemen and as many dogs, who chased him till
      he took refuge in the water. A boat now put off, and soon overtaking the
      tired animal, he was tied securely. When towed ashore, one rope was
      fastened round his horns, and another to his fore-foot, each held by a
      negro, while a third took a strong gripe of his tail. In this manner, they
      led and drove him along, the fellow behind occasionally biting the beast's
      tail, to quicken his motions; until at length the poor creature was made
      fast to an anchor on the beach, there to await the butcher.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is here a miserable church, but no priest. Passing the edifice
      to-day, I saw seven or eight women at their devotions. Instead of
      kneeling, they were seated, with their chins resting on their knees, on
      the shady side of the church.
    </p>
    <p>
      30.&mdash;The crews of the whale-ships, when ashore, occasionally give no
      little trouble to the colonial police. This evening, one of their sailors
      came up to us, quite intoxicated, and bleeding from a hurt in his head. He
      was bent upon vengeance for his wound, but puzzled how to get it; inasmuch
      as a female hand had done the mischief, by cutting his head open with a
      bottle. His chivalry would not allow him to strike a woman; nor could he
      find any man who would acknowledge himself her relative. In this dilemma,
      he was raving through the little village, accompanied by several of his
      brother whale-men, mostly drunk, and ready for a row. The Portuguese
      officer on duty called out the guard, consisting of two negroes with fixed
      bayonets, and caused them to march back and forth in the street. Fifty
      paces in the village would bring them to the country; when the detachment
      came to the right about, and retraced its steps. These two negroes formed
      precisely two-fifths of the regular military force at Porto Grande; but,
      besides this formidable host, there are some thirty officers and soldiers
      of the National Guard, comprising all the negro population able to bear
      clubs.
    </p>
    <p>
      The women here have a peculiar mode of carrying children, when two or
      three years old. The child sits astride of the mother's left hip, clinging
      with hands and feet, and partially supported by her left arm. The little
      personage being in a state of total nudity, and of course very slippery,
      this is doubtless the most convenient method that could be adopted.
    </p>
    <p>
      The gait of the women is remarkably free and unembarrassed. With no
      constraint of stays or corsets, and often innocent of any covering, the
      shoulders have full play, and the arms swing more than I have ever seen
      those of men, in our own country. Their robes are neither too abundant,
      nor too tight, to prevent the exhibition of a very martial stride. The
      scanty clothing worn here is owing partly, but not entirely, to the warmth
      of the climate. Another cogent reason is the poverty of the inhabitants;
      so, at least, I infer from the continual petitions for clothes, and from
      remarks like the following, made to me by a mulatto woman:&mdash;"You very
      good man, you got plenty clothes, plenty shirt."
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>September</i> 3.&mdash;The Cornelia, of New Bedford, came in and
      anchored. She has been out fifteen months, and has only 400 barrels of
      oil.
    </p>
    <p>
      4.&mdash;Left the ship in the launch on an expedition to the neighboring
      island of St. Antonio; being despatched by the Commodore to procure
      information as to the facilities for anchoring ships, and obtaining water
      and refreshments. Our boat was sloop-rigged, and carried three officers, a
      passenger, and ten men. At 11 A.M. we "sheeted home," and stood out of the
      harbor with a fair breeze, and all canvass spread: but, within an hour,
      the wind freshened to a gale, and compelled us to take in everything but a
      close reefed mainsail. The sea being rough, and the weather squally, our
      boat took in more water than was either agreeable or safe, until we
      somewhat improved matters by constructing a temporary forecastle of
      tarpaulins. Finding it impossible, however, to contend against wind and
      current, we bore up for an anchorage called Santa Cruz. This was formerly
      a notorious haunt for pirates; but no vestige of a settlement remains,
      save the ruins of an old stone house, which may probably have been the
      theatre of wild and bloody incidents, in by-gone years. The serrated hills
      are grey and barren, and the surrounding country shows no verdure.
      Anchoring here, we waited several hours for the wind to moderate, and
      tried to get such sleep as might perchance be caught in an unsteady boat.
    </p>
    <p>
      By great diligence in working against wind and current, we succeeded in
      reaching Genella at 9 o'clock in the evening of the second day. Our
      mulatto pilot, Manuel Quatrine, whistled shrilly through his fingers; and,
      after a brief delay, the response of a similar whistle reached our ears
      from shore. A conversation was sustained for some moments, by means of
      shouts to-and-fro in Portuguese; a man then swam off to reconnoitre; and,
      on his return, the people launched a canoe and carried us ashore, weary
      enough of thirty-six hours' confinement in an open boat. We took up our
      quarters in the house of a decent negro, who seemed to be the head man of
      the village, and, after eating such a supper as the place could supply,
      sallied out to give the women an opportunity of preparing our beds.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meanwhile, the pilot had not been idle. Though a married man, and the
      father of six children, he was a gay Lothario, and a great favorite with
      the sex; he could sing, dance, and touch the guitar with infinite spirit,
      and tolerable skill. Being well known in the village, it is not surprising
      that the arrival of so accomplished a personage should have disturbed the
      slumbers of the inhabitants. At ten o'clock, a dance was arranged before
      the door of one of the huts. The dark-skinned maidens, requiring but
      little time to put on their ball-costume, came dropping in, until, before
      midnight, there were thirty or forty dancers on foot. The figures were
      compounded of the contra-dance and reel, with some remarkable touches of
      the Mandingo balance. The music proceeded from one or two guitars, which,
      however, were drowned a great part of the time, by the singing of the
      girls and the clapping of each individual pair of hands in the whole
      party. A calabash of sour wine, munificently bestowed by a spectator,
      increased the fun, and it continued to wax higher and more furious, as the
      night wore away. Our little pilot was, throughout, the leader of the
      frolic, and acquitted himself admirably. His nether garments having
      received serious detriment in the voyage, he borrowed a large heavy
      pea-jacket, to conceal the rents, and in this garb danced for hours with
      the best, in a sultry night. Long before the festivity was over, my
      companions and myself stretched ourselves on a wide bag of straw, and fell
      asleep, lulled by the screaming of the dancers.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next morning we were early on foot, and looked around us with no small
      interest. The village is situated at the point where a valley opens upon
      the shore. The sides of this vale are steep, and, in many places, high,
      perpendicular, and rocky. Every foot of earth is cultivated; and where the
      natural inclination of the hill is too great to admit of tillage, stone
      walls are built to sustain terraces, which rise one over another like
      giant steps to the mountain-tops. It was the beginning of harvest, and the
      little valley presented an appearance of great fertility. Corn, bananas,
      figs, guavas, grapes, oranges, sugar-cane, cocoa-nuts, and many other
      fruits and vegetables, are raised in abundance. The annual vintage in this
      and a neighboring valley, appertaining to the same parish, amounts to
      about seventy-five pipes of wine. It is sour and unpalatable, not unlike
      hard-cider and water. When a cultivator first tries his wine, it is a
      custom of the island for him to send notice to all his acquaintances, who
      invariably come in great force, each bringing a piece of salt-fish to keep
      his thirst alive. Not unfrequently, the whole produce of the season is
      exhausted by a single carouse.
    </p>
    <p>
      The people are all negroes and mulattoes. Male and female, they are very
      expert swimmers, and are often in the habit of swimming out to sea, with a
      basket or notched stick to hold their fish; and thus they angle for hours,
      resting motionless on the waves, unless attacked by a shark. In this
      latter predicament, they turn upon their backs, and kick and splash until
      the sea-monster be frightened away. They appear to be a genial and
      pleasant-tempered race. As we walked through the village, they saluted us
      with "Blessed be the name of the Lord!" Whether this expression (a
      customary courtesy of the islanders) were mere breath, or proceeded out of
      the depths of the heart, is not for us to judge; but, at all events, heard
      in so wild and romantic a place, it made a forcible impression on my mind.
      When we were ready to depart, all the villagers came to the beach, with
      whatever commodities they were disposed to offer for sale; a man carrying
      a squealing pig upon his shoulders; women with fruits and fowls; girls
      with heavy bunches of bananas or bundles of cassada on their heads; and
      boys, with perhaps a single egg. Each had something, and all lingered on
      the shore until our boat was fairly off.
    </p>
    <p>
      Five or six miles further, we landed at Paolo, where reside several
      families who regard themselves as the aristocracy of St. Antonio, on the
      score of being connected with Señor Martinez, the great man of these
      islands. Their houses are neatly built, and the fields and gardens well
      cultivated. They received us hospitably, principally because one of our
      party was a connection of the family. I was delighted with an exhibition
      of feeling on the part of an old negro servant-woman. She came into the
      parlor, sat down at the feet of our companion, embraced his knees, and
      looked up in his face with a countenance full of joy, mingled with respect
      and confidence. We saw but two ladies at this settlement. One was a matron
      with nine children; the other a dark brunette, very graceful and pleasing,
      with the blackest eyes and whitest teeth in the world. She wore a shawl
      over the right shoulder and under the left arm, arranged in a truly
      fascinating manner.
    </p>
    <p>
      The poorer classes in the vicinity are nearly all colored, and mostly
      free. They work for eight or ten cents a day, living principally on fruit
      and vegetables, and are generally independent, because their few wants are
      limited to the supply. The richest persons live principally within
      themselves, and derive their meats, vegetables, fruits, wine, brandy,
      sugar, coffee, oil, and most other necessaries and luxuries, from their
      own plantations. One piece of furniture, however, to be seen in several of
      the houses, was evidently not the manufacture of the island, but an export
      of Yankee-land. It was the wooden clock, in its shining mahogany case,
      adorned with bright red and yellow pictures of Saints and the Virgin, to
      suit the taste of good Catholics. It might have been fancied that the
      renowned Sam Slick, having glutted all other markets with his wares, had
      made a voyage to St. Antonio. Nor did they lack a proper artist to keep
      the machine in order. We met here a person whom we at first mistook for a
      native, so identical were his manners and appearance with those of the
      inhabitants; until, in conversation, we found him to be a Yankee, who had
      run away from a whale-ship, and established himself as a clock and
      watch-maker.
    </p>
    <p>
      After a good night's rest, another officer and myself left Paolo, early,
      for a mountain ride. The little pilot led the way on a donkey; my friend
      followed on a mule, and I brought up the rear on horseback. We began to
      ascend, winding along the rocky path, one by one, there being no room to
      ride two abreast. The road had been cut with much labor, and, in some
      places, was hollowed out of the side of the cliff, thus forming a gallery
      of barely such height and width as to admit the passage of a single
      horseman, and with a low wall of loose stones between the path and the
      precipice. At other points, causeways of small stones and earth had been
      built up, perhaps twenty feet high, along the top of which ran the path.
      On looking at these places from some projecting point, it made us shudder
      to think that we had just passed, where the loosening of a single one of
      those small stones might have carried us down hundreds of feet, to certain
      destruction. The whole of the way was rude and barren. Here and there a
      few shrubs grew in the crevices of the rocks, or wild flowers, of an
      aspect strange to our eyes, wasted their beauty in solitude; and the small
      orchilla weed spread itself moss-like over the face of the cliff. At one
      remarkable point, the path ran along the side of the precipice, about
      midway of its height. Above, the rock rose frowningly, at least five
      hundred feet over our heads. Below, it fell perpendicularly down to the
      beach. The roar of the sea did not reach us, at our dizzy height, and the
      heavy surf-waves, in which no boat could live, seemed to kiss the shore as
      gently as the ripple of a summer-lake. This was the most elevated point of
      the road, which thence began to descend; but the downward track was as
      steep and far more dangerous. At times, the animals actually slid down
      upon their haunches. In other places, they stept from stone to stone, down
      steep descents, where the riders were obliged to lie backwards flat upon
      the cruppers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Over all these difficulties, our guide urged his donkey gaily and
      unconcernedly. As for myself, though I have seen plenty of rough riding,
      and am as ready as most men to follow, if not to lead, I thought it no
      shame to dismount more than once. The rolling of a stone, or the parting
      of stirrup, girth, or crupper, would have involved the safety of one's
      neck. Nor did the very common sight of wooden crosses along the path,
      indicating sudden death by accident or crime, tend to lessen the sense of
      insecurity. The frequent casualties among these precipitous paths,
      together with the healthfulness of the climate, have made it a proverb,
      that it is a natural death, at St. Antonio, to be dashed to pieces on the
      rocks. But such was not our fate. We at length reached the sea-shore, and
      rode for a mile along the beach to the city of Poverson, before entering
      which metropolis, it was necessary to cross a space of level, sandy
      ground, about two hundred yards in extent. Here the little pilot suddenly
      stuck his heels into the sides of his donkey, and dashed onward at a
      killing pace; while mule and horse followed hard upon his track, to the
      great admiration of ragamuffins, who had assembled to witness the entrée
      of the distinguished party.
    </p>
    <p>
      Poverson is the capital of the island, and contains about two thousand
      inhabitants, who, with few exceptions, are people of color. The streets
      are crooked and narrow, and the houses mean. We called upon the military
      and civil Governors, and, after accepting an invitation to dine with the
      former, left the place for a further expedition. Passing over a shallow
      river, in which a number of women and girls were washing clothes, we
      ascended a hill so steep as to oblige us to dismount, and from the summit
      of which we had a fine view of the rich valley beneath. It is by far the
      most extensive tract of cultivated land that we have seen in the island,
      and is improved to its utmost capacity. We thence rode three miles over a
      path of the same description as before, and arrived at the village and
      port of Point-de-Sol. The land about this little town is utterly barren,
      and the inhabitants are dependent on Poverson for food, with the exception
      of fish. A custom-house, a single store, a church, and some twenty houses
      of fishermen, comprise all the notable characteristics of the principal
      seaport of the island.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was a part of our duty to make an examination of the harbor, for which
      purpose we needed a boat. Two were hauled up on the beach; but the
      smallest would have required the power of a dozen men to launch her;&mdash;whereas,
      the fishermen being absent in their vocation, our party of three, and a
      big boy at the store, comprised our whole available masculine strength.
      The aid of woman, however, is seldom sought in vain; nor did it fail us
      now. Old and young, matron and maid, they all sallied forth to lend a
      hand, and, with such laughing and screaming as is apt to attend feminine
      efforts, enabled us to launch the boat. In spite of their patois of bad
      Portuguese, we contrived to establish a mutual understanding. A fine, tall
      girl, with a complexion of deep olive, clear, large eyes, and teeth
      beautifully white and even, stood by my side; and, like the Ancient
      Mariner and his sister's son, we pulled together. She was strong, and, as
      Byron says, "lovely in her strength." This difficulty surmounted, we rowed
      round the harbor, made our examination, and returned to the beach, where
      we again received the voluntary assistance of the women, in dragging the
      boat beyond the reach of the waves. We now adjourned to the store, in
      order to requite their kindness by a pecuniary offering. Each of our fair
      friends received two large copper coins, together equal to nine cents, and
      were perfectly satisfied, as well they might be&mdash;for it was the price
      of a day's work. Two or three individuals, moreover, "turned double
      corners," and were paid twice; and it is my private belief that the tall
      beauty received her two coppers three times over.
    </p>
    <p>
      After a lunch of fried plantains and eggs, we rode back to Poverson. On
      the way, we met several persons of both sexes with burdens on their heads,
      and noticed that our guide frequently accosted them with a request for a
      pinch of snuff. With few exceptions, a horn or piece of bone was produced,
      containing a fine yellow snuff of home-manufacture, which, instead of
      being taken between the thumb and finger, was poured into the palm of the
      hand, and thence conveyed to the nose. Arriving at the city, we proceeded
      at once to the house of the Commandant, and in a little time were seated
      at dinner.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our host was fitted by nature to adorn a far more brilliant position than
      that which he occupied, as the petty commander of a few colored soldiers,
      in a little island of the torrid zone. He was slightly made, but perfectly
      proportioned, with a face of rare beauty, and an expression at once noble
      and pleasing. His eyes were large, and full of a dark light; his black
      hair and moustache were trimmed with a care that showed him not insensible
      of his personal advantages; as did likewise his braided jacket, fitting so
      closely as to set off his fine figure to the best effect. His manners were
      in a high degree polished and graceful. One of the guests, whom he had
      invited to meet us, understood English; and the conversation was sustained
      in that language, and in Spanish. The dinner was cooked and served in the
      Portuguese style; it went off very pleasantly, and was quite as good as
      could be expected at the house of a bachelor, in a place so seldom visited
      by strangers. Each of the Portuguese gentlemen gave a sentiment, prefaced
      by a short complimentary speech; and our party, of course, reciprocated in
      little speeches of the same nature. The Commandant did not fail to express
      the gratitude due from the people of the Cape de Verd islands to America,
      for assistance in the hour of need. Time did not permit us to remain long
      at table, and we took leave, highly delighted with our entertainment.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mounting again, we rode out of town more quietly than we had entered it. A
      sergeant was drilling some twenty negro soldiers in marching and wheeling.
      His orders were given in a quick, loud tone, and enforced by the
      occasional application of smart blows of a rattan to the shoulders of his
      men. Suspecting that the blows fell thicker because we were witnesses of
      his discipline, it seemed a point of humanity to hasten forward;
      especially as the approach of night threatened to make our journey still
      more perilous than before. After riding about three miles, we met two
      well-dressed mulatto women on donkeys, accompanied by their cavaliers. Of
      course, we allowed the ladies to pass between us and the rock; a matter of
      no slight courtesy in such a position, where there was a very
      uncomfortable hazard of being jostled headlong down the precipice. We
      escaped, however, and spurring onward through the gloom of night, passed
      unconsciously over several rough spots where we had dismounted in the
      morning. The last mile of our mountain-ride was lighted by the moon; and,
      as we descended the last hill, the guide gave a shrill whistle, to which
      the boat's crew responded with three cheers for our return.
    </p>
    <p>
      A good night's rest relieved us of our fatigue. The following morning,
      with a fair breeze and a six hours' sail, we reached our floating-home,
      and have ever since entertained the mess-table with the "yarn" of our
      adventures; until now the subject is beginning to be worn thread-bare.
      But, as the interior of the island of St. Antonio is one of the few
      regions of the earth as yet uncelebrated by voyagers and tourists, I
      cannot find in my heart to spare the reader a single sentence of the
      foregoing narrative.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER V.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Arrival of the Macedonian&mdash;Return to the Coast of Africa&mdash;Emigrants
      to Liberia&mdash;Tornadoes&mdash;Maryland in Liberia&mdash;Nature of its
      Government&mdash;Perils of the Bar&mdash;Mr. Russwurm&mdash;The Grebo
      Tribe&mdash;Manner of disposing of their Dead.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>September</i> 9.&mdash;Weighed anchor, and stood out to sea. At 8
      o'clock A.M., made the frigate Macedonian. She saluted the broad pennant,
      and both ships bore up for Porto Grande, where we anchored, and read the
      news from home.
    </p>
    <p>
      11.&mdash;The Commodore left the ship, and hoisted his broad pennant on
      board the Macedonian.
    </p>
    <p>
      16.&mdash;Sailed at 6 o'clock P.M., for Porto Praya.
    </p>
    <p>
      17.&mdash;Anchored at Porto Praya, where we find the Decatur, which
      arrived yesterday, after a passage of forty-five days from Norfolk.
    </p>
    <p>
      22.&mdash;Sailed in the evening for the coast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>October</i> 7.&mdash;Off Cape Mount.
    </p>
    <p>
      8.&mdash;Ashore at Monrovia. It being Sunday, we attended the Methodist
      Church. Mr. Teage, editor of the Liberia Herald, preached an appropriate
      and well-written discourse, on occasion of admitting three men and a woman
      to church-membership. One of the males was a white, who had married a
      colored woman in America, and came out to the colony with Mr. McDonough's
      people, some time ago. His wife being dead, he has married another woman
      of color, and is determined to live and die here.
    </p>
    <p>
      10.&mdash;Dined with the Governor. Visited the house of a poor colonist, a
      woman with two children and no husband. She endeavors to support her
      family by washing. Two or three, other women of the neighborhood dropped
      in. It is said that the proportion of female emigrants to males is as
      three and a half to one. Unless it be expected that these women are to
      work in the fields, it is difficult to imagine how they are to earn a
      subsistence. A little chance washing and sewing, not enough to employ one
      in ten, is all they have to depend upon. The consequence is, that every
      person, of even moderate means of living, has two or three women to feed
      and clothe. They do not need their services, but cannot let them starve.
      This is one of the drawbacks upon Colonization.
    </p>
    <p>
      Even the able-bodied men are generally unfit for promoting the prosperity
      of the colony. A very large proportion of them are slaves, just liberated.
      Accustomed to be ruled and taken care of by others, they are no better
      than mere children, as respects the conduct and economy of life. In
      America, their clothes, food, medicines, and all other necessaries, have
      been furnished without a thought on their own part; and when sent to
      Liberia, with high notions of freedom and exemption from labor (ideas
      which with many are synonymous), they prove totally inadequate to sustain
      themselves. I perceive, in Colonization reports, that the owners of slaves
      frequently offer to liberate them, on condition of their being sent to
      Liberia; and that the Society has contracted debts, and embarrassed itself
      in various ways, rather than let such offers pass. In my opinion, many of
      the slaves, thus offered, are of little value to the donors, and of even
      less to the cause of Colonization. Better to discriminate carefully in the
      selection of emigrants, than to send out such numbers of the least
      eligible class, to become burdens upon the industrious and intelligent,
      who might otherwise enjoy comfort and independence. Many a colonist, at
      this moment, sacrifices his interest to his humanity, and feels himself
      kept back in life by the urgent claims of compassion.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Society allows to new emigrants provisions for six months. After that
      period, if unable to take care of themselves, they must either starve, or
      be supported by the charitable. Fifty young or middle-aged men, who had
      been accustomed to self-guidance in America, would do more to promote the
      prosperity of the colony, than five hundred such emigrants as are usually
      sent out. The thievish propensity of many of the poor and indolent
      colonists is much complained of by the industrious. On this account, more
      than any other, it is difficult to raise stock. The vice has been acquired
      in America, and is not forgotten in Africa.
    </p>
    <p>
      13.&mdash;A rainy morning. Last night we were all roused from sleep by the
      sea coming into the starboard air-ports. We of the larboard side laughed
      at the misfortune of our comrades, and closed our own ports, without
      taking the precaution to screw them in. Half an hour afterwards, a very
      heavy swell assailed us on the larboard, beat in all the loose ports, and
      deluged the rooms. I found myself suddenly awakened and cooled by a
      cataract of water pouring over me. Out jumped the larboard sleepers, in
      dripping night-gear, and shouted lustily for lights, buckets, and swabs;
      while the starboard gentlemen laughed long and loud, in their turn.
    </p>
    <p>
      14.&mdash;Sailed for the leeward.
    </p>
    <p>
      17.&mdash;Beautiful weather. This afternoon all hands were called to
      shorten sail, in those earnest, startling tones, which are prompted by the
      sense of danger alone. Every man sprang to his station with the
      instinctive readiness of disciplined seamen. The idlers were all on deck,
      and looked about for the cause. Had a man fallen overboard? No! Nor was
      there any particular appearance of a squall. But the earnest gaze of the
      commander and a passenger, towards the shore, drew all eyes in the same
      direction; and, behold! a smoke was seen rising from the land, which had
      been mistaken for the cloud that precedes the tornado. It is necessary to
      prepare for many blows that do not come. In the tornado-seasons (which may
      be estimated at four or five weeks, about the months of March and
      November), there are frequent appearances of squalls, sometimes as often
      as twice or thrice in twenty-four hours. The horizon grows black, with
      very much the aspect of a thunder-shower in America. Generally, the
      violence of the wind does not equal the apprehensions always entertained.
      We could have carried royals through nineteen out of twenty of the
      tornadoes that assailed our ship; but the twentieth might have taken the
      sticks out of us. The harmless, as well as the heavy tornadoes, have the
      same black and threatening aspect. They usually blow from the land,
      although once, while at anchor, we experienced one from seaward.
    </p>
    <p>
      19.&mdash;Anchored at Cape Palmas. This colony is independent, of Liberia
      proper, and is under the jurisdiction and patronage of the Maryland State
      Colonization Society. Its title is Maryland in Liberia. The local
      government is composed of an agent and an assistant agent, both to be
      appointed by the Society at home, for two years; a secretary, to be
      appointed by the agent annually; and a vice-agent, two counsellors, a
      register, a sheriff, a treasurer, and a committee on new emigrants, to be
      chosen by the people. Several minor officers are appointed by the agent,
      who is entrusted with great powers. The judiciary consists of the agent,
      and a competent number of justices of the peace, who are appointed by him,
      and two of whom, together with the agent, constitute the Supreme Court. A
      single justice has jurisdiction in small criminal cases, and in all civil
      cases where the claim does not exceed twenty dollars.
    </p>
    <p>
      Male colored people, at twenty years of age, are entitled to vote, if they
      hold land in their own right, or pay a tax of one dollar. Every emigrant
      must sign a pledge to support the constitution, and to refrain from the
      use of ardent spirits, except in case of sickness. By a provision of the
      constitution, emigration is never to be prohibited.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our boat attempted to land at some rocks, just outside of the port, in
      order to avoid crossing the bar; but as the tide was low, and the surf
      troublesome, we found it impracticable. I hate a bar; there is no fair
      play about it. The long rollers come in from the sea, and, in consequence
      of the shallowness of the water, seem to pile themselves up so as
      inevitably to overwhelm you, unless you have skilful rowers, a good
      helmsman, and a lively boat. At one moment, your keel, perhaps, touches
      the sand; the next, you are lifted upon a wave and borne swiftly along for
      many yards, while the men lie on their oars, or only pull an occasional
      stroke, to keep the boat's head right. Now they give way with a will, to
      escape a white-crested wave that comes trembling and roaring after them;
      and now again they cease rowing, or back water, awaiting a favorable
      moment to cross. Should you get into a trough of the sea, you stand a very
      pretty chance to be swamped, and have your boat rolled over and over upon
      its crew; while, perchance, a hungry shark may help himself to a leg or
      arm.
    </p>
    <p>
      Pulling across this ugly barrier, we landed at the only wharf of which the
      colony can boast. There is here a stone warehouse, but of no great size.
      In front of it lay a large log, some thirty feet long, on which twelve or
      fourteen full grown natives were roosting, precisely like turkeys on a
      pole. They are accustomed to sit for hours together in this position,
      resting upon their heels. A girl presented us with a note, informing all
      whom it might concern, that Mrs. &mdash;&mdash; would do our washing; but,
      as the ship's stay was to be short, we turned our attention to the cattle,
      of which a score or two were feeding in the vicinity. They are small, but,
      having been acclimated, are sleek and well-conditioned. As I have before
      observed, it is a well-established fact, that all four-footed emigrants
      are not less subject to the coast fever than bipeds. Horses, cattle, and
      even fowls, whether imported or brought from the interior to the coast,
      speedily sicken, and often die.
    </p>
    <p>
      I dined with Mr. Russwurm, the colonial agent, a man of distinguished
      ability and of collegiate education. He gave me, some monkey-skins and
      other curiosities, and favored me with much information respecting the
      establishment. The mean temperature of the place is eighty degrees of
      Fahrenheit, which is something less than that of Monrovia, on account of
      its being more open to the sea. The colony comprises six hundred and fifty
      inhabitants, all of whom dwell within four miles of the Cape. Besides the
      settlement of Harper, situated on the Cape itself, there is that of Mount
      Tubman (named in honor of Mr. T. of Georgia), which lies beyond Mount
      Vaughan, and three and a half miles from Cape Palmas. There is no road to
      the interior of the country, except a native path. The agent, with a party
      of twenty, recently penetrated about seventy miles into the Bush, passing
      through two tribes, and coming to a third, of large numbers and strength.
      The king of the latter tribe has a large town, where many manufactures are
      carried on, such as iron implements and wooden furniture of various kinds.
      He refused Mr. Russwurm an escort, alleging that there was war, but sent
      his son to the coast, to see the <i>black-white</i> people and their
      improvements.
    </p>
    <p>
      A large native tribe, the Grebo, dwells at Cape Palmas in the midst of the
      colonists. Their conical huts, to the number of some hundreds, present the
      most interesting part of the scene. Opposite the town, upon an uninhabited
      island at no great distance, the dead are exposed, clad in their best
      apparel, and furnished with food, cloth, crockery, and other articles. A
      canoe is placed over the body. This island of the dead is called by a
      name, which, in the plainest of English, signifies "Go-to-Hell;" a
      circumstance that seems to imply very gloomy anticipations as to the fate
      of their deceased brethren, on the part of these poor Grebos. As a badge
      of mourning, they wear cloth of dark blue, instead of gayer colors. Dark
      blue is universally, along the coast, the hue indicative of mourning.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Fishmen, at Cape Palmas, as well as at most other places on the coast,
      refuse to sell fish to be eaten on board of vessels, believing that the
      remains of the dead fish will frighten away the living ones.
    </p>
    <p>
      21.&mdash;Sailed at 5 o'clock A.M., with a good wind, and anchored at
      Sinoe at 6 P.M.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VI.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Settlement of Sinoe&mdash;Account of a murder by the natives&mdash;Arrival
      at Monrovia&mdash;Appearance of the town&mdash;Temperance&mdash;Law-suits
      and Pleadings&mdash;Expedition up the St. Paul's river&mdash;Remarks on
      the cultivation of sugar&mdash;Prospects of the coffee-culture in Liberia&mdash;Desultory
      observations on agriculture.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>October</i> 22.&mdash;At Sinoe. Mr. Morris, the principal man of the
      settlement, came on board, in order to take passage with us to Monrovia.
      He informs us that there are but seventy-two colonists here at present,
      but that nearly a hundred are daily expected. Such an accession of
      strength is much needed for the natives in the vicinity are powerful, and
      not very friendly, and the colony is too weak to chastise them. Our
      appearance has caused them some alarm. This is the place where the mate of
      an American vessel was harpooned, some months since, by the Fishmen. We
      shall hold a palaver about it, when the Commodore joins us.
    </p>
    <p>
      We left Sinoe at 7 o'clock, P.M.
    </p>
    <p>
      23. Mr. Morris has been narrating the circumstances of the murder of the
      American mate, at Sinoe, in reference to which we are to "set a palaver."
      "Palaver," by-the-by, is probably a corruption of the Portuguese word,
      "Palabra." As used by the natives, it has many significations, among which
      is that of an open quarrel. To "set a palaver," is to bring it to a final
      issue, either by talking or fighting.
    </p>
    <p>
      The story of the murder is as follows. A Fishman agreed to go down the
      coast with Captain Burke, who paid him his wages in advance; on receiving
      which, the fellow jumped overboard, and escaped. The captain then refused
      to pay the sums due to two members of the same tribe, unless the first
      should refund the money. Finding the threat insufficient, he endeavored to
      entice these two natives on board his vessel, by promises of payment, but
      ineffectually. Meanwhile, the mate going ashore with a colonist, his boat
      was detained by the natives, during the night, but given up the next
      morning, at the intercession of the inhabitants. The mate returned on
      board, in a violent rage, and sent a sailor to catch a Fishman, on whom to
      take vengeance. But the man caught a Tartar, and was himself taken ashore
      as prisoner. The mate and cook then went out in a boat, and were attacked
      by a war-canoe, the men in which harpooned the cook, and stripping the
      mate naked, threw him overboard. They beat the poor fellow off, as he
      attempted to seize hold of the canoe, and, after torturing him for some
      time, at length harpooned him in the back. Captain Burke, having but one
      man and two passengers left, made sail, and got away as fast as possible.
    </p>
    <p>
      23.&mdash;Arrived at Monrovia, where we find the Porpoise, with six native
      prisoners on board, who were taken at Berebee, as being concerned in the
      murder of Captain Farwell and his crew, two years ago. To accomplish their
      capture, the Porpoise was disguised as a barque, with only four or five
      men visible on deck, and these in Scotch caps and red shirts, so as to
      resemble the crew of a merchant-vessel. The first canoe approached, and
      Prince Jumbo stepped boldly up the brig's side, but started back into his
      boat, the moment that he saw the guns and martial equipment on deck. The
      Kroomen of the Porpoise, however, jumped into the water and upset the
      canoe, making prisoners of the four natives whom it contained. Six or
      eight miles further along the coast, the brig being under sail, another
      canoe came off with two natives, who were likewise secured. The Kroomen
      begged to be allowed to kill the prisoners, as they were of a hostile
      tribe.
    </p>
    <p>
      28.&mdash;Leaving the ship in one of our boats, pulled by Kroomen, we
      crossed the bar at the mouth of the Mesurado, and in ten minutes
      afterwards, were alongside of the colonial wharf. Half-a-dozen young
      natives and colonists issued from a small house to watch our landing; but
      their curiosity was less intrusive and annoying, than would have been that
      of the same number of New-York boys, at the landing of a foreign
      man-of-war's boat. On our part, we looked around us with the interest
      which even common-place objects possess for those, whose daily spectacle
      is nothing more varied than the sea and sky. Even the most ordinary
      shore-scenery becomes captivating, after a week or two on shipboard. Two
      colonists were sawing plank in the shade of the large stone store-house of
      the colony. Ascending the hill, we passed the printing-office of the
      Liberia Herald, where two workmen were printing the colonial laws. The
      publication of the newspaper had been suspended for nearly three months,
      to enable them to accomplish work of more pressing importance. Proceeding
      onward, we came to the Governor's house, and were received with that
      gentleman's usual courtesy. The house is well furnished, and arranged for
      a hot climate; it is situated near the highest point of the principal
      street, and commands from its piazza a view of most of the edifices in
      Monrovia town.
    </p>
    <p>
      The fort is on the highest ground in the village, one hundred feet above
      the sea; it is of stone, triangular in shape, and has a good deal the
      appearance of an American pound for cattle, but is substantial, and
      adequate for its intended purposes. From this point, the street descends
      in both directions. About fifty houses are in view. First, the Government
      House, opposite to which stand the neat dwellings of Judge Benedict and
      Doctor Day. Further on, you perceive the largest house in the village,
      erected by Rev. Mr. Williams, of the Methodist mission. On the right is a
      one-story brick house, and two or three wooden ones. A large stone
      edifice, intended for a Court-House and Legislative Hall, has recently
      been completed. The street itself is wide enough for a spacious pasture,
      and affords abundance of luxuriant grass, through which run two or three
      well-trodden foot-paths. Apart from the village, on the Cape, we discerned
      the light-house, the base of which is about two hundred feet above the
      sea.
    </p>
    <p>
      We dined to-day at the New Hotel. The dinner was ill-cooked (an
      unpardonable fault at Monrovia, where good cooks, formerly in the service
      of our southern planters, might be supposed to abound), and not served up
      in proper style. But there was abundance to eat and drink. Though the
      keeper of the house is a clergyman and a temperance-man, ale, porter,
      wine, and cherry-brandy, are to be had at fair prices. Three years ago, a
      tavern was kept here in Monrovia by a Mr. Cooper, whose handbill set
      forth, that "nothing was more repugnant to his feelings than to sell
      ardent spirits"&mdash;but added&mdash;"if gentlemen <i>will</i> have them,
      the following is the price." Of course, after such a salvo, Mr. Cooper
      pocketed the profits of his liquor-trade with a quiet conscience. He used
      to tell me that a little brandy was good for the "suggestion;" but I fear
      that he made, in his own person, too large a demand upon its suggestive
      properties; for his house is now untenanted and ruinous, and he himself
      has carried his tender conscience to another settlement.
    </p>
    <p>
      30.&mdash;Went ashore in the second cutter. The Kroomen managed her so
      bunglingly, that, on striking the beach, she swung broadside to the sea.
      In this position, a wave rolled into her, half-filled the boat, and
      drenched us from head to foot. Apprehending that she would roll over upon
      us, and break our limbs or backs, we jumped into the water, and waded
      ashore.
    </p>
    <p>
      While in the village, I visited the Court House, to hear the trial of a
      cause involving an amount of eight hundred dollars. Governor Roberts acted
      as judge, and displayed a great deal of dignity in presiding, and much
      wisdom and good sense in his decision. This is the highest court of the
      Colony. There are no regularly educated lawyers in Liberia, devoting
      themselves exclusively to the profession; but the pleading seems to be
      done principally by the medical faculty. Two Doctors were of counsel in
      the case alluded to, and talked of Coke, Blackstone, and Kent, as
      learnedly as if it had been the business of their lives to unravel legal
      mysteries. The pleadings were simple, and the arguments brief, for the
      judge kept them strictly to the point. An action for slander was
      afterwards tried, in which the damages were laid at one hundred dollars.
      One of the medico-jurisconsults opened the cause with an appeal to the
      feelings, and wrought his own sensibilities to such a pitch as to declare,
      that, though his client asked only for one hundred dollars, he considered
      the jury bound in conscience to give him two. The Doctor afterwards told
      me that he had walked eighty miles to act as counsel in this court. A
      tailor argued stoutly for the defendant, but with little success; his
      client was fined twenty dollars.
    </p>
    <p>
      On our return, a companion and myself took passage for the ship in a
      native canoe. These little vessels are scooped out of a log, and are of
      even less size and capacity than the birch-canoes of our Indians, and so
      light that two men, using each a single hand, may easily carry them from
      place to place. Our weight caused the frail bark to sit so deep in the
      water, that, before reaching the ship, we underwent another drenching.
      Three changes of linen in one day are altogether too expensive and
      troublesome.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>November</i> 1.&mdash;Went up the St. Paul's river on a pleasure
      excursion, with the Governor, and several men of lesser note. We touched
      at the public farm, and found only a single man in charge. The sugar-cane
      was small in size, was ill-weeded, and, to my eye, did not appear
      flourishing. The land is apparently good and suitable, but labor is
      deficient, and my impressions were not favorable in regard to the manner
      of cultivation. The mill was exposed to the atmosphere, and the kettles
      were full of foul water. We landed likewise at New Georgia, a settlement
      of recaptured Africans. There was here a pretty good appearance, both of
      people and farms. We called also at Caldwell, a rich tract of level land,
      of which a space of about two miles is cultivated by comfortable and
      happy-looking colonists. A very pleasant dinner was furnished by the
      Governor at what was once a great slave station, and the proprietor of
      which is still hostile to the colonists, and to both English and
      Americans, for breaking up the trade. We saw several alligators. One of
      them, about three feet in length, lay on a log, with his mouth wide open,
      catching flies.
    </p>
    <p>
      From the whole course of my observation, I cannot but feel satisfied that
      the colonists are better off here than in America. They are more
      independent, as healthy, and much happier. Agriculture will doubtless be
      their chief employment, but, for years to come, the cultivation of sugar
      cane cannot be carried to any considerable extent. There are many calls
      upon the resources of the Colonization Society and the inhabitants, more
      pressing, and which promise a readier and greater return. A large capital
      should be invested in the business, in order to render it profitable. The
      want of a steam-mill, to grind the cane, has been severely felt. Ignorance
      of the most appropriate soil, and of the most productive kind of cane, and
      the best methods of planting and grinding it, have likewise contributed to
      retard the cultivation of sugar. But the grand difficulty is the want of a
      ready capital, and the high price of labor. The present wages of labor are
      from sixty to seventy-five cents per day. The natives refuse to work among
      the canes, on account of the prickly nature of the leaves, and the
      irritating property of a gum that exudes from them. Yet it may be doubted
      whether the colony will ever make sugar to any important extent, unless
      some method be found to apply native labor to that purpose. Private
      enterprise is no more successful than the public efforts. A plantation has
      been commenced at Millsburg, and prosecuted with great diligence, but with
      no auspicious results. Sugar has been made, indeed, but at a cost of three
      times as much, per pound, as would have purchased it.
    </p>
    <p>
      Hitherto, the plantations of Coffee trees have not succeeded well. Coffee,
      it is true, is sometimes exported from Liberia; and doubtless the friends
      of Colonization drink it with great gusto, as an earnest of the progress
      of their philanthropic work. The cup, however, will be less grateful to
      their taste, when they learn that nearly all this coffee is procured at
      the islands of St. Thomas and St. Prince's, in the Bight of Benin, and
      entered as the produce of Liberia, <i>ad captandum</i>. The same game has
      been played in England, by entering their coffee as from Sierra Leone or
      Gambia, to entitle it to the benefit of the lower duties on colonial
      produce. But the English custom-house officers are now aware of the
      deception, and the business is abandoned.
    </p>
    <p>
      The mode of forming a coffee-plantation is simply to go into the woods
      (where the tree abounds), select the wild coffee tree, and transport it
      into the prepared field. The indigenous coffee-tree of Liberia produces
      fruit of a superior quality, larger and finer flavored, than that of the
      West Indies. But the cultivation, I think, is conducted upon wrong
      principles. Instead of having large plantations, with no other vegetables
      on the land, let every man intermingle a few coffee trees with the corn,
      cassada, and other vegetables in his garden or fields. These few trees,
      having the benefit of the hoeing and manuring bestowed on the other crops,
      will produce much more abundantly and with less trouble, than by separate
      culture. In fact, after setting out the trees, there will be no trouble,
      except that of gathering and preparing the berries for market. In this
      burning climate, the shade afforded by the tree will be beneficial to most
      vegetables.
    </p>
    <p>
      The want of success, hitherto, in the cultivation of coffee, has been
      attributed by some to the custom of transplanting the trees from the
      forest, instead of raising them from seed. The colonial Secretary is now
      making trial of the latter method. He has several thousand young trees in
      his nursery, and will soon be able to test the comparative efficiency of
      the different systems. Not improbably, the cultivation of seedlings may be
      found preferable to that of transplanted trees; but, in my opinion, the
      great obstacle to success has been the deficiency of care and proper
      manuring. In order to bear well, trees require to have the ground
      enriched, and kept free from weeds. Failing this, the plant often dies,
      and never flourishes so well as in its native woods. The inhabitants of
      Liberia have not the means of bestowing the requisite care upon the
      cultivation of coffee, on an extended scale; and I say boldly, that large
      plantations, in that region, cannot compete with those of Brazil and the
      West Indies, where the plantations are well-stocked, and cultivated by
      slave-labor. Free labor in Africa will not soon be so cheap as that of
      slaves in other countries. Even in Cuba, the planters can barely feed
      themselves and their slaves, by the culture of coffee. How, then, can it
      be made profitable in Liberia, where labor commands so high a price, and
      is often impossible to be procured?
    </p>
    <p>
      As incidental, however, to other branches of agriculture, coffee may be
      advantageously raised. The best trees are those seen in gardens, where,
      from ten or twelve, more berries are gathered than from hundreds in a
      plantation. A single tree, in the garden of Colonel Hicks, is said to have
      produced sixteen pounds at a gathering; and I have seen several very fine
      trees in similar situations. Fifty or a hundred trees, well selected, and
      properly distributed through the fields, would yield several hundred
      pounds of coffee, which, being gathered and dried by the women and
      children, would be gratuitous as regards the cost of labor. Thus, the
      coffee culture, in Liberia, must be considered far more eligible than that
      of sugar; inasmuch as the latter requires a large capital and extensive
      operations, while the former succeeds best on a very moderate scale.
    </p>
    <p>
      Judge Benedict has probably bestowed more attention on this business, than
      any other person in Liberia. He is a man of excellent sense and
      information, and has the means to carry out his views, as well as the
      patriotism to exert himself for the advantage of the commonwealth. With
      these qualifications, he has employed five or six years in the experiment
      of raising coffee, and thus far, with little success, although his
      plantation comprises some thousands of growing trees. In the spring of
      1841, he made presents, to myself and other officers, of genuine Liberian
      coffee, in small native bags, containing two or three pounds each. The
      Judge is still giving away little bags of the same kind; but I do not yet
      learn that his crop is more than sufficient for his own use, and for
      distribution as specimens; certainly, it is not so abundant as to render
      the sale of it an object. As for the plantation itself, I must confess
      that it appeared to me more flourishing three years ago, than at present.
      Most of the trees, on the spot originally planted, are dead, and the rest
      in a sickly condition; while the most thriving trees are to be seen on the
      lower and damper land adjacent, which, at my former visit, was covered
      with a dense forest. Beyond a doubt, the coffee tree is as well adapted to
      this soil and climate as to those of Cuba, and produces a larger and
      better flavored berry; but I repeat my opinion, that the Liberian, hiring
      laborers at sixty cents a day, cannot compete with the West Indian, who
      has his hundreds of slaves already paid for, and his trees growing in
      well-weeded land. The mere feeding, I might almost say, of a dozen
      laborers in Liberia, will cost more than all the coffee they raise would
      re-imburse, at the Cuba prices.
    </p>
    <p>
      The cultivation of rice is universal in Africa. The natives never neglect
      it, for fear of famine. For an upland crop, the rice-lands are turned over
      and planted in March and April. In September and October, the rice is
      reaped, beaten out, and cleaned for market or storing. The lowland crop,
      on the contrary, is planted in September, October, and November, in marshy
      lands, and harvested in March and April. Lands will not produce two
      successive crops without manuring and ploughing. About two bushels of seed
      are sown to the acre; and the crop, on the acre of upland, is about thirty
      bushels, and from forty to forty-five bushels on the lowlands. The rice is
      transported to market on the backs of natives, packed in bundles of about
      three feet long and nine inches in diameter. The wrappers are made of
      large leaves, bound together by cords of bark. The load is sustained by
      shoulder-straps, and by a band, passing round the forehead of the bearer.
    </p>
    <p>
      Cassada is a kind of yam, and sends up a tall stalk, with light green
      leaves. It has a long root, looking like a piece of wood with the brown
      bark on; the interior is white and mealy, rather insipid, but nutritious,
      and invaluable as an article of food. It is raised from the seed, root, or
      stem; the latter being considered preferable. Its yield is very great. In
      six months, it is fit to dig, and may be preserved fifteen or eighteen
      months in the ground, but ceases to be eatable in three or four days after
      being dug. Tapioca is manufactured from this root.
    </p>
    <p>
      Indian corn is planted in May and harvested in September; or, if planted
      in July, it ripens in November and December. Sweet potatoes constitute one
      of the main reliances of the colonists; they are raised from seeds, roots
      or vines, but most successfully from the latter. The season of planting is
      in May, or June, and the crop ripens four months later. Plantains and
      bananas are a valuable product; they are propagated from suckers, which
      yield a first crop in about a year. The top is cut down, and new stalks
      spring from the root. Ground nuts are the same article peddled by the old
      women at our street-corners, under the name of pea-nuts; so called from
      the close resemblance of the bush to the tops of the sweet pea. This nut
      is used in England for making oil. The Cocoa is a bulbous root of the size
      of a tea-cup, and has some similarity to the artichoke. Pine-apples,
      small, but finely flavored, grow wild in the woods, and are abundant in
      their season.
    </p>
    <p>
      In concluding these very imperfect and miscellaneous observations on the
      agriculture and products of Liberia, it may be remarked that the farmer's
      life and modes of labor are different from those of the same class, in
      other countries; inasmuch as there is here no spring, autumn, or winter.
      The year is a perpetual summer; therein, if in nothing else, resembling
      the climate of the original Paradise, to which men of all colors look back
      as the birth-place of their species. The culture of the soil appears to be
      emphatically the proper occupation of the Liberians. Many persons have
      anticipated making money more easily by trade; but, being unaccustomed to
      commercial pursuits, and possessing but little capital, by far the greater
      number soon find themselves bankrupt, and burthened with debt. With these
      evidences of the inequality, on their part, of competition with vessels
      trading on the coast, and with the established traders of the colony, the
      inhabitants are now turning their attention more exclusively to
      agriculture.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VII.
    </h2>
    <p>
      High character of Governor Roberts&mdash;Suspected Slaver&mdash;Dinner on
      shore&mdash;Facts and remarks relative to the slave trade&mdash;British
      philanthropy&mdash;Original cost of a slave&mdash;Anchor at Sinoe&mdash;Peculiarities
      and distinctive characteristics of the Fishmen and Bushmen&mdash;The King
      of Appollonia&mdash;Religion and morality among the natives&mdash;Influence
      of the women.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>November</i> 3.&mdash;Ashore, botanizing. In this region, where all the
      plants are strange, and many of them beautiful, it is easy work to form a
      collection. With a Kroo-boy to carry my book, I cut leaves and flowers as
      they came to hand.
    </p>
    <p>
      4.&mdash;Governor Roberts, General Lewis, and Doctor Day, dined with us in
      the ward-room. The Governor is certainly no ordinary person. In every
      situation, as judge, ruler, and private gentleman, he sustains himself
      creditably, and is always unexceptionable. His deportment is dignified,
      quiet, and sensible. He has been tried in war as well as in peace, has
      seen a good share of fighting, and has invariably been cool, brave, and
      successful. He is a native of Virginia, and came from thence in 1828. The
      friends of Colonization can hardly adduce a stronger argument in favor of
      their enterprise, than that it has redeemed such a man as Governor Roberts
      from servitude, and afforded him the opportunity (which was all he needed)
      of displaying his high natural gifts, and applying them to the benefit of
      his race.
    </p>
    <p>
      To-night we had a Kroo-dance on the forecastle. It was an uncouth and
      peculiar spectacle, characterized by singing, stamping, and clapping of
      hands, with a great display of agility. National dances might be taken as
      no bad standard of the comparative civilisation of different countries. A
      gracefully quiet dance is the latest flower of high refinement.
    </p>
    <p>
      5.&mdash;Two vessels descried standing in; and bets were five to one that
      they were the Macedonian and Decatur. It proved otherwise; they were a
      British gun-brig and French merchant-schooner.
    </p>
    <p>
      8.&mdash;It has been raining for three days, almost incessantly. No
      Macedonian yet.
    </p>
    <p>
      10.&mdash;Dined on shore. Our captain and five officers, the master and
      surgeon of an English merchantman, and the captain of the French schooner,
      were of the party. It was a pleasant dinner. The conversation turned
      principally upon the trade and customs of the coast. The slave-trade was
      freely discussed; and the subject had a peculiar interest, under the
      circumstances, because this identical Frenchman, at table with us, is
      suspected to have some connection with it. It is merely a surmise. The
      French captain speaks a little English; but, after dinner, as a matter of
      courtesy, we all adopted his native language. Our friend Colonel Hicks, as
      usual, did most of the talking; he is as shrewd, agreeable, and
      instructive a companion, as may often be met with in any society.
    </p>
    <p>
      The dinner-conversation, above alluded to, suggests some remarks in
      reference to the slave-trade. There is great discrepancy in the various
      estimates as to the number of slaves annually exported from Africa. Some
      authorities rate it as high as half a million. Captain Bosanquet, R.N.,
      estimates that fifteen thousand are annually sent to the West Indies, and
      a greater number to Arabia, all of which are from Portuguese settlements.
      He affirms that the trade has increased very much between the years 1832
      and 1839, and particularly in the latter part of that period; an effect
      naturally consequent upon the great number of captures made by the English
      cruisers. A trader, for instance, contracting to introduce a given number
      of slaves into Cuba, must purchase more on the coast to make up for those
      lost by capture. Captain Brodhead, another British officer, says that the
      number of slaves carried off is grossly exaggerated, and that the English
      papers told of thousands being shipped from a port, where he lay at anchor
      during the period indicated, and for fifty days before and afterwards; in
      all which time, not a slave vessel came in sight. Doctor Madden states,
      that, during his residence in Cuba, the number of slaves annually imported
      was twenty-five thousand. Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton calls it one hundred
      and fifteen thousand! Her Majesty's Commissioners say that the number is
      as well known as any other statistical point, and that it does not exceed
      fifteen thousand. The slave-trade rose to a great height in 1836, owing
      principally to the high price of colonial produce. I was in Cuba in that
      year, and witnessed the great activity that prevailed in buying negroes,
      and forming plantations, especially those of sugar. The prices have since
      fallen, and the slave-trade decreased, on the plain principle of political
      economy, that the demand regulates the supply.
    </p>
    <p>
      The English cruisers are doubtless very active in the pursuit of vessels
      engaged in this traffic. The approbation of government and the public (to
      say nothing of £5 head-money for every slave recaptured, and the increased
      chance of promotion to vacancies caused by death) is a strong inducement
      to vigilance. But, however benevolent may be the motives that influence
      the action of Great Britain, in reference to the slave-trade, there is the
      grossest cruelty and injustice in carrying out her views. Attempts are now
      being made to transport the rescued slaves in great numbers to the British
      West India islands, at the expense of government. It is boldly
      recommended, by men of high standing in England, to carry them all thither
      at once. The effect of such a measure, gloss it over as you may, would be
      to increase the black labor of the British islands, by just so much as is
      deducted from the number of slaves, intended for the Spanish or Brazilian
      possessions. "The sure cure for the slave-trade" says Mr. Laird, "is in
      our own hands. It lies in producing cheaper commodities by free labor, in
      our own colonies." And, to accomplish this desirable end, England will
      seize upon the liberated Africans and land them in her West India islands,
      with the alternative of adding their toil to the amount of her colonial
      labor, or of perishing by starvation. How much better will their condition
      be, as apprentices in Trinidad or Jamaica, than as slaves in Cuba?
      Infinitely more wretched! English philanthropy cuts a very suspicious
      figure, when, not content with neglecting the welfare of those whom she
      undertakes to protect, she thus attempts to made them subservient to
      national aggrandizement. The fate of the rescued slaves is scarcely better
      than that of the crews of the captured slave-vessels. The latter are
      landed on the nearest point of the African coast, where death by
      starvation or fever almost certainly awaits them.
    </p>
    <p>
      I am desirous to put the best construction possible on the conduct as well
      of nations as of individuals, and never to entertain that cold scepticism
      which explains away all generosity and philanthropy on motives of selfish
      policy. But it is difficult to give unlimited faith to the ardent and
      disinterested desire professed by England, to put a period to the
      slave-trade. If sincere, why does she not, as she readily might, induce
      Spain, Portugal, and Brazil, to declare the traffic piratical? And again,
      why is not her own strength so directed as to give the trade a death-blow
      at once? There are but two places between Sierra Leone and Accra, a
      distance of one thousand miles, whence slaves are exported. One is
      Gallinas; the other New Sesters. The English keep a cruiser off each of
      these rivers. Slavers run in, take their cargoes of human flesh and blood,
      and push off. If the cruiser can capture the vessels, the captors receive
      £5 per head for the slaves on board, and the government has more
      "emigrants" for its West India possessions. Now, were the cruisers to
      anchor at the mouths of these two rivers, the slavers would be prevented
      from putting to sea with their cargoes, and the trade at those places be
      inevitably stopped. But, in this case, where would be the head-money and
      the emigrants?
    </p>
    <p>
      It has been asserted that the colonists of Liberia favor the slave-trade.
      This is not true. The only places where the traffic is carried on, north
      of the line, are in the neighborhood of the most powerful English
      settlements on the whole coast; while even British authority does not
      pretend that the vicinity of the American colonies is polluted by it.
      Individuals among the colonists, unprincipled men, may, in a very few
      instances, from love of gain, have given assistance to slavers, by
      supplying goods or provisions at high prices. But this must have been done
      secretly, or the law would have taken hold of them. Slavers, no doubt,
      have often watered at Monrovia, but never when their character was known.
      On the other hand, the slave stations at St. Paul's river, at Bassa, and
      at Junk, have undeniably been broken up by the presence of the colonists.
      Even if destitute of sympathy for fellow-men of their own race and hue,
      and regardless of their deep stake in the preservation of their character,
      the evident fact is, that self-interest would prompt the inhabitants of
      Liberia to oppose the slave-trade in their vicinity. Wherever the slaver
      comes, he purchases large quantities of rice at extravagant rates, thus
      curtailing the supply to the colonist, and enhancing the price. Moreover,
      the natives, always preferring the excitement of war to the labors of
      peace, neglect the culture of the earth, and have no camwood nor palm-oil
      to offer to the honest trader, who consequently finds neither buyers nor
      sellers among them.
    </p>
    <p>
      The truth is, the slave-traders can dispense with assistance from the
      Liberian colonists. They procure goods, and everything necessary to their
      trade, at Sierra Leone, or from any English or American vessel on the
      coast. If the merchantmen find a good market for their cargoes, they are
      satisfied, whatever be the character of their customers. This is well
      understood and openly avowed here. The English have no right to taunt the
      Americans, nor to claim higher integrity on their own part. They lend
      precisely the same indirect aid to the traffic that the Americans do, and
      furnish everything except vessels, which likewise they would supply, if
      they could build them. It is the policy of the English ship-masters on the
      coast to represent the Americans as engaged in the slave-trade; for if, by
      such accusations, they can induce British or American men-of-war to detain
      and examine the fair trader, they thus rid themselves of troublesome
      rivals.
    </p>
    <p>
      The natives are generally favorable to the slave-trade. It brings them
      many comforts and luxuries, which the legitimate trade does not supply.
      Their argument is, that "if a man goes into the Bush and buys camwood, he
      must pay another to bring it to the beach. But if he buy a slave, this
      latter commodity will not only walk, but bring a load of camwood on his
      back." All slaves exported are Bushmen, many of whom are brought from two
      or three hundred miles in the interior. The Fishmen and Kroomen are the
      agents between the slave-traders and the interior tribes. They will not
      permit the latter to become acquainted with the white men, lest their own
      agency and its profits should cease. A slave, once sold, seldom returns to
      his home.
    </p>
    <p>
      If transported to a foreign country, his case is of course hopeless; and
      even if recaptured on the coast, his return is almost impossible. His
      home, probably, is far distant from the sea. It can only be reached by
      traversing the territories of four or five nations, any one of whom would
      seize the hapless stranger, and either consign him to slavery among
      themselves, or send him again to a market on the coast. Hence, those
      recaptured by the English cruisers are either settled at Sierra Leone, or
      transported to some other of the colonies of Great Britain.
    </p>
    <p>
      The price paid to the native agents for a full grown male slave, is about
      one musket, twelve pieces of romauls, one cutlass, a demijohn of rum, a
      bar of iron, a keg of powder, and ten bars of leaf-tobacco, the whole
      amounting to the value of thirty to thirty-five dollars. A female is sold
      for about a quarter less; and boys of twelve or thirteen command only a
      musket and two pieces of romauls. Slave-vessels go from Havana with
      nothing but dollars and doubloons. Other vessels go out with the above
      species of goods, and all others requisite for the trade. The slaver buys
      the goods on the coast, pays for them with specie, and lands them in
      payment for the slaves, money being but little used in traffic with the
      natives.
    </p>
    <p>
      13.&mdash;The Decatur arrived this evening, after a passage of thirty days
      from Porto Praya. She left the Macedonian on the way, the winds being
      light, the current adverse, and the frigate sailing very badly.
    </p>
    <p>
      17.&mdash;The Macedonian arrived.
    </p>
    <p>
      Coming off from town, to-day, I took a canoe with a couple of Kroomen, who
      paddled down the river, till we arrived at a narrow part of the
      promontory. On touching the shallows, one of the Kroomen took me on his
      back to the dry land. The two then picked up the canoe, carried her across
      the cape, perhaps a hundred yards, and launched her, with myself on board,
      through the heavy surf.
    </p>
    <p>
      21.&mdash;Sailed at daylight for Sinoe, leaving the Macedonian and
      Decatur, an American ship and barque, an English brig, and two Hamburg
      vessels, at anchor.
    </p>
    <p>
      25.&mdash;Anchored at Sinoe at noon.
    </p>
    <p>
      26.&mdash;Ashore. Visited Fishtown, a well-built native village,
      containing probably four hundred inhabitants. It is within about two
      hundred yards of the colonial dwellings. The people are said to have
      committed many depredations upon the colonists; and there is an evident
      intention of driving them off. This is the tribe with which we are to hold
      a palaver.
    </p>
    <p>
      There are two grand divisions of native Africans on the Western Coast, the
      Fishmen and the Bushmen; the latter being inhabitants of the interior; and
      the former comprising all the tribes along the sea-shore, who gain a
      subsistence by fishing, trading between the Bushmen and foreign vessels,
      and laboring on shipboard. The Kroomen, so often mentioned, are in some
      respects a distinct and separate people; although a large proportion,
      probably nine-tenths of those bearing that name, are identical with the
      Fishmen. The latter are generally treacherous and deceitful; the Kroomen
      are much more honest, but still are not to be trusted without reserve and
      discrimination.
    </p>
    <p>
      The government of these people, and of the natives generally, is nominally
      monarchical, but democratic in substance. The regal office appears to be
      hereditary in a family, but not to descend according to our ideas of
      lineal succession. The power of the king is greatly circumscribed by the
      privilege, which every individual in the tribe possesses, of calling a
      palaver. If a man deems himself injured, he demands a full discussion of
      his rights or wrongs, in presence of the rulers and the tribe. The
      head-men sit in judgment, and substantial justice is generally done. There
      are persons, celebrated for their power and copiousness of talking, who
      appear as counsel in behalf of the respective parties. The more
      distinguished of these advocates are sometimes sent for, from a distance
      of two or three hundred miles, to speak at a palaver; and, in such cases,
      they leave all other employment, and hurry to the scene of action.
    </p>
    <p>
      It would appear that, on other parts of the coast, or farther in the
      interior, the native kings possess more power and assume greater state,
      than those who have come under my notice. The King of Appollonia,
      adjoining Axim Territory, is said to be very rich and powerful. If the
      report of his nearest civilized neighbor, the Governor of Axim, is to be
      credited, this potentate's house is furnished most sumptuously in the
      European style. Gold cups, pitchers, and plates, are used at his table,
      with furniture of corresponding magnificence in all the departments of his
      household. He possesses vast treasures in bullion and gold dust. The
      Governor of Dixcove informed me, that, about four years ago, he
      accompanied an English expedition against Appollonia, which is still
      claimed by England, although their fort there has been abandoned. On their
      approach, the King fled, and left them masters of the place. Some of the
      English soldiers opened the sepulchre of the King last deceased, and took
      away an unknown amount of gold. Afterwards, by order of the Governor, the
      remainder was taken from the grave, amounting to several hundred dollars.
      Together with the treasure, numerous articles had been buried, such as a
      knife, plate, and cup, swords, guns, cloth, goods of various kinds, and,
      in short, every thing that the dead King had required while alive. There
      were also four skeletons, two of each sex, buried beneath the royal
      coffin. It is said that sixty victims were sacrificed on occasion of the
      funeral, of whom only the most distinguished were allowed, even in death,
      to approach their master so nearly, and act as his immediate attendants in
      the world of spirits. The splendor of an African funeral, on the Gold
      Coast, is unparalleled. It is customary for persons of wealth to smear the
      corpses of their friends with oil, and then to powder them with gold-dust
      from head to foot, so as to produce the appearance of bronzed or golden
      statues.
    </p>
    <p>
      The present King of Appollonia deposited six hundred ounces of gold (about
      ten thousand dollars) with the Governor of Cape Coast Castle, as security
      for his good behavior. His cellar is well supplied with rare wines, which
      he offers liberally to strangers who land at his residence. All these
      circumstances, and this barbaric magnificence, indicate a far different
      condition from that of the native Kings in the vicinity of Liberia, who
      live simply, like their subjects, on vegetables and fish, and one of whom
      was proud to array himself in a cast-off garment of my own. Their wealth
      consists not in gold, plate, or bullion, but in crockery and earthenware.
      Not only the Kings, but all the rich natives, accumulate articles of this
      kind, until their dwellings resemble warehouses of crockery. Perhaps fifty
      white wash-bowls, with as many pitchers, mugs, and plates, may be seen
      around the room; and when these utensils become so numerous as to excite
      the envy of the tribe, the owners are said to bury them in the earth. In
      the house of King Glass (so named, I presume, from the transparency of his
      character), I noticed the first indications of a taste for the Fine Arts.
      Seventy coarse colored engravings, glazed and framed, were suspended on
      the wall; and, what was most curious, nearly all of them were copies of
      the same print, a portrait of King William the Fourth.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is to be desired that some missionary should give an account of the
      degree and kind of natural religion among the native tribes. Their belief
      in the efficacy of sassy-wood to discover guilt or innocence, indicates a
      faith in an invisible Equity. Some of them, however, select the most
      ridiculous of animals, the monkey, as their visible symbol of the Deity;
      or, as appears more probable, they stand in spiritual awe of him, from an
      idea that the souls of the dead are again embodied in this shape. Under
      this impression, they pay a kind of worship to the monkey, and never kill
      him near a burial-place; and though, in other situations, they kill and
      eat him, they endeavor to propitiate his favor by respectful language, and
      the use of charms. Other natives, in the neighborhood of Gaboon, worship
      the shark, and throw slaves to him to be devoured.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the whole, their morality is superior to their religion&mdash;at least,
      as between members of the same tribe&mdash;although they scarcely seem to
      acknowledge moral obligations in respect to strangers. Their landmarks,
      for instance, are held sacred among the individuals of a tribe. A father
      takes his son, and points out the "stake and stones" which mark the
      boundary between him and his neighbor. There needs no other registry. Land
      passes from sire to son, and is sold and bought with as undisputed and
      secure a title as all our deeds and formalities can establish. But,
      between different tribes, wars frequently arise on disputed boundary
      questions, and in consequence of encroachments made by either party.
      "Land-palavers" and "Women-palavers" are the great causes of war. Veracity
      seems to be the virtue most indiscriminately practised, as well towards
      the stranger as the brother. The natives are cautious as to the accuracy
      of the stories which they promulgate, and seldom make a stronger
      asseveration than "I tink he be true!" Yet their consciences do not shrink
      from the use of falsehood and artifice, where these appear expedient.
    </p>
    <p>
      The natives are not insensible to the advantages of education. They are
      fond of having their children in the families of colonists, where they
      learn English, and the manners of civilized life, and get plenty to eat.
      Probably the parents hope, in this way, to endow their offspring with some
      of the advantages which they suppose the white man to possess over the
      colored race. So sensible are they of their own inferiority, that if a
      person looks sternly in the face of a native, when about to be attacked by
      him, and calls out to him loudly, the chances are ten to one that the
      native runs away. This effect is analogous to that which the eye of man is
      said to exert on the fiercest of savage beasts. The same involuntary and
      sad acknowledgment of a lower order of being appears in their whole
      intercourse with the whites. Yet such self-abasement is scarcely just; for
      the slave-traders, who constitute the specimens of civilized man with whom
      the natives have hitherto been most familiar, are by no means on a par
      with themselves, in a moral point of view. It is a pity to see such awful
      homage rendered to the mere intellect, apart from truth and goodness.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is a redeeming trait of the native character, so far as it goes, that
      women are not wholly without influence in the public councils. If, when a
      tribe is debating the expediency of going to war, the women come beneath
      the council-tree, and represent the evils that will result, their opinion
      will have great weight, and may probably turn the scale in favor of peace.
      On the other hand, if the women express a wish that they were men, in
      order that they might go to war, the warriors declare for it at once. It
      is to be feared, that there is an innate fierceness even in the gentler
      sex, which makes them as likely to give their voices for war as for peace.
      It is a feminine office and privilege, on the African coast, to torture
      prisoners taken in war, by sticking thorns in their flesh, and in various
      other modes, before they are put to death. The unfortunate Captain Farwell
      underwent three hours of torture, at the hands of the women and children.
      So, likewise, did the mate of Captain Burke's vessel, at Sinoe.
    </p>
    <p>
      The natives are very cruel in their fights, and spare neither age nor sex;
      they kill the women and female children, lest they should be the mothers
      of future warriors, and the boys, lest they should fight hereafter. If
      they take prisoners, it is either to torture them to death, or to sell
      them as slaves. The Fishmen have often evinced courage and obstinacy in
      war, as was the case in their assaults upon the Liberian settlers, in the
      heroic age of the colony, when Ashman and his associates displayed such
      warlike ability in defeating them. The Bushmen are as cruel as the former,
      but appear to be more cowardly. I have heard the Rev. Mr. Brown, himself
      an actor in the scene, relate the story of the fight at Heddington, in
      which three colonists, assisted by two women, were attacked at daybreak by
      five hundred natives, many of whom were armed with muskets. Zion Harris
      and Mr. Demery were the marksmen, while the clergyman assumed the duty of
      loading the guns. The natives rushed onward in so dense a crowd, that
      almost every bullet and buckshot of the defenders hit its man. The
      besieged had but six muskets, one hundred cartridges, and a few charges of
      powder. Their external fortifications consisted only of a slight
      picket-fence, which might have been thrown down in an instant. But,
      fortunately, when there were but three charges of powder left in the
      house, a shot killed Gotorap, the chief of the assailants, at whose fall
      the whole army fled in dismay. One of the trophies of their defeat was the
      kettle which they had brought for the purpose of cooking the missionaries,
      and holding a cannibal feast. The battle-field is poetically termed the
      bed of honor: but the bravest man might be excused for shrinking from a
      burial in his enemy's stomach! Poetry can make nothing of such a fate.
    </p>
    <p>
      Rude and wretched as is the condition of the natives, it has been affirmed
      that many of the Liberian colonists have mingled with them, and preferred
      their savage mode of life to the habits of civilisation. Only one instance
      of the kind has come to my personal knowledge. We had on board, for two or
      three months, a party of Kroomen, among whom was one, dressed like the
      rest, but speaking better English. Being questioned, he said that he had
      learned English on board of merchant-vessels, where he had been employed
      for several years. We took this young man into the ward-room, where he
      worked for three months, associating chiefly with the Kroomen on deck,
      speaking their language, and perfectly resembling them in his appearance
      and general habits. About the time of discharging him, we discovered that
      he was a native of North Carolina, had resided many years in Liberia, but,
      being idle and vicious, had finally given up the civilized for the savage
      state. His real name was Elijah Park; his assumed one, William Henry.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VIII.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Palaver at Sinoe&mdash;Ejectment of a Horde of Fishmen&mdash;Palaver at
      Settra Kroo&mdash;Mrs. Sawyer&mdash;Objections to the Marriage of
      Missionaries&mdash;A Centipede&mdash;Arrival at Cape Palmas&mdash;Rescue
      of the Sassy Wood-Drinker Hostilities between the Natives and Colonists.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
 <i>November</i> 27.&mdash;At Sinoe. The settlement here is in a poor condition.
The inhabitants are apparently more ignorant and lazy than the colonists
on any other part of the coast. Yet they have a beautiful and fertile
situation.
</pre>
    <p>
      28.&mdash;The Macedonian and Decatur arrived. Governor Roberts, and other
      persons of authority and distinction among the colonists, were passengers,
      in order to be present at the intended palaver.
    </p>
    <p>
      29.&mdash;At 9 A.M., thirteen boats left the different ships, armed, and
      having about seventy-five marines on board, besides the sailors. Entering
      the river, with flags flying and muskets glittering, the boats lay on
      their oars until all were in a line, and then pulled at once for the
      beach, as if about to charge a hostile battery. The manoeuvre was
      handsomely executed, and seemed to give great satisfaction to some thirty
      colonists and fifty naked natives, who were assembled on the beach. The
      officers and marines were landed, and formed in line, under the direction
      of Lieutenant Rich. The music then struck up, while the Commodore and
      Governor Roberts slept ashore, and the whole detachment marched to the
      palaver-house, which, on this occasion, was the Methodist Church.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Commodore seated himself behind a small table, which was covered with
      a napkin. The officers, with Governor Roberts and Doctor Day, occupied
      seats on his right, and the native chiefs, as they dropped in, found
      places on the left. If the latter fell short of us in outward pomp and
      martial array, they had certainly the advantage of rank, there being about
      twenty kings and headmen of the tribes among them. Governor Roberts opened
      the palaver in the Commodore's name, informing the assembled chiefs, that
      he had come to talk to them about the slaughter of the mate and cook,
      belonging to Captain Burke's vessel. Jim Davis, who conducted the palaver
      on the part of the natives, professed to know nothing of the matter, the
      chiefs present being Bushmen, whereas the party concerned were Fishmen.
      After a little exhibition of diplomacy, Davis retired, and Prince Tom came
      forward and submitted to an examination. His father is king of the tribe
      of Fishmen, implicated in the killing of the two men. The prince denied
      any personal knowledge on the subject, but observed that the deed had been
      done in war, and that the tribe were not responsible. When asked where
      Nippoo was (a chief known to have taken a leading part in the affray), he
      at first professed ignorance, but, on being hard pressed, offered to go
      and seek him. He was informed, however, that he could not be permitted to
      retire, but must produce Nippoo on the spot, or be taken to America.
    </p>
    <p>
      The council went on. The depositions of three colonists were taken, and
      the facts in the case brought out. They were substantially in accordance
      with the narrative already given in this Journal; and, upon full
      investigation, Captain Burke was decided to have been the aggressor. The
      proceedings of the Fishmen had been fierce and savage, but were redeemed
      by a quality of wild justice, and exhibited them altogether in a better
      light than the white men.
    </p>
    <p>
      This affair being adjusted, the business of the palaver might be
      considered at an end, so far as the American squadron had any immediate
      connection with it. But there were points of importance to be settled,
      between the natives and the colonists. It was the interest of the latter,
      that the Fishmen, residing in the neighborhood of the settlement, should
      be ejected from their land, which would certainly be a very desirable
      acquisition to the emigrants. It seems, that the land originally belonged
      to the Sinoe tribe, whose head-quarters are four miles inland. Several
      years ago, long before the arrival of the emigrants, this tribe gave
      permission to a horde of Fishmen to occupy the site, but apparently
      without relinquishing their own property in the soil. Feeble at first, the
      tenants wore a friendly demeanor towards their landlords, and made
      themselves useful, until, gradually acquiring strength, they became
      insolent, and assumed an attitude of independence. Setting the interior
      tribe, of whom they held the land, at defiance, these Fishmen put an
      interdict upon their trading with foreigners, except through their own
      agency. Eight or ten years ago, however, the inland natives sold the land
      to the Colonization Society, subject to the incumbrance of the Fishmen's
      occupancy, during good behavior; a condition which the colonists likewise
      pledged themselves to the Fishmen to observe, unless the conduct of the
      latter should nullify it.
    </p>
    <p>
      For the last two or three years, the settlement at Sinoe, being neglected
      by the Mississippi Society, under whose patronage it was established, has
      dwindled and grown weaker in numbers and spirit. The Fishmen, with their
      characteristic audacity, have assumed a bolder aspect, and, besides
      committing many depredations on the property of the colonists, have
      murdered two or three of their number. The murderers, it is true, were
      delivered up by the tribe, and punished at the discretion of the Monrovian
      authorities; but the colonists at Sinoe felt themselves too feeble to
      redress their lighter wrongs, and therefore refrained from demanding
      satisfaction. About a month since, an addition of sixty new emigrants was
      made to the seventy, already established there. Considering themselves now
      adequate to act on the offensive, they determined to drive off the
      Fishmen. In this purpose they were confirmed by the Monrovian government;
      and it was a part of the governor's business, at the palaver, to provide
      for its execution.
    </p>
    <p>
      Governor Roberts exhibited much sagacity and diplomatic shrewdness in
      accomplishing his object. It was obviously important to obtain the
      assistance of the Bushmen, in expelling and keeping away the Fishmen.
      They, however, were unwilling to take part in the matter, alleging their
      fears as an excuse; although it might probably be a stronger reason, that
      they could trade more advantageously with merchant-vessels, through the
      medium of the Fishmen, than by the agency of the colonists.
    </p>
    <p>
      But the interposition of the American Commodore, and the affair of the
      murder, afforded the Governor the advantage of mixing up that question
      with the colonial one; so as to give the natives the impression that
      everything was done at the instance and under the authority of our armed
      force. This vantage-ground he skilfully made use of, yet not without its
      being perceived, by the native politicians, that the question of expelling
      the Fishmen was essentially distinct from that of the murder of Captain
      Burke's seamen. Davis the interpreter, and one of the headmen of the Sinoe
      tribe, inquired why the Commodore did not first talk his palaver, and then
      the Governor in turn talk his. It did not suit his excellency's views to
      answer; and the question was evaded. By this ingenious policy, the Bushmen
      were induced to promise their aid in ridding the settlement of its
      troublesome neighbors; while the Fishmen, overawed by the presence of a
      force friendly to the colonists, submitted to their expulsion with a
      quietude that could not, under other circumstances, have been expected.
      Doubtless, they had forfeited their claim to the land by non-observance of
      the conditions on which they held it; yet, in some points, the affair had
      remarkably the aspect of a forcible acquisition of territory by the
      colonists.
    </p>
    <p>
      No time was lost in carrying the decree of the palaver into execution.
      Apprehending hostilities from the squadron, the Fishmen had already
      removed most of their property, as well as their women and children, and
      had evacuated the town. Governor Roberts, Mr. Brown, Doctor Day, late
      government agent, together with a few colonists, repaired to the place and
      directed its demolition. This was partially effected by the natives, of
      whom some hundreds from the interior were present. They cut down and
      unroofed many of the dwellings; and the Governor left directions to burn
      every house, if the Fishmen should attempt to re-occupy the town. This
      wild horde, therefore, may be considered as permanently ejected from the
      ground which they held on so singular a tenure; and thus terminated an
      affair which throws a strong light on many of the characteristics of the
      natives, and likewise on the relations between them and the emigrants.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>December</i> 3.&mdash;We sailed, at two o'clock A.M., for Settra Kroo,
      fifteen miles down the coast. Anchored at eleven A.M. A boat being sent
      ashore, brought news of the death of Mr. Sawyer, the missionary. He left a
      wife, now the only white person at the place.
    </p>
    <p>
      4.&mdash;The boats landed at Settra Kroo, to settle a palaver. The matter
      in question was the violence offered by the natives to Captain Brown,
      master of an American vessel, in striking and attempting to kill him. They
      admitted the fact, begged pardon, and agreed to pay ten bullocks, four
      sheep, and some fowls, or the value thereof, to Captain Brown, and further
      to permit him to trade without payment of the usual "dash." This town is
      said to be very superior to any other native settlement on the coast; and
      the people are the best informed, most intelligent, and the finest in
      personal appearance, that we have met with.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dined on shore. Mrs. Sawyer presided at the table, although her husband
      was buried only yesterday. It is impossible not to look with admiration at
      this lady, whose husband and only child have fallen victims to the
      climate, yet who believes it her duty to remain alone, upon a barbarous
      coast, in a position which perhaps no other woman ever voluntarily
      occupied. She is faithful to her trust, as the companion of him who fell
      at his post, and is doubtless happy in obedience to the unworldly motives
      that guide her determination. Yet I cannot reconcile myself to the idea of
      a woman sharing the martyrdom, which seems a proper, and not an
      undesirable fate (so it come in the line of his duty) for a man. I doubt
      the expediency of sending missionary ladies to perish here. Indeed, it may
      well be questioned whether a missionary ought, in any country, to be a
      married man. The care of a family must distract his attention and weaken
      his efficiency; and herein, it may be, consists one great advantage which
      the Catholic missionary possesses over the Protestant. He can penetrate
      into the interior; he can sleep in the hut, and eat the simple food of a
      native. But, if there be a wife and children, they must have houses and a
      thousand other comforts, which are not only expensive and difficult to
      obtain, but are clogs to keep the missionary down to one spot. I know how
      much the toil and suffering of man is alleviated, in these far-off
      regions, by the tenderness of woman. But the missionary is, by his
      profession, a devoted man; he seeks, in this life, not his own happiness,
      but the eternal good of others. Compare him with the members of my own
      profession. We are sustained by no such lofty faith as must be supposed to
      animate him, yet we find it possible to spend years upon the barren deep,
      exposed to every variety of climate, and seeking peril wherever it may be
      found&mdash;and all without the aid of woman's ministrations. Can a man,
      vowed to the service of a Divine Master, think it much to practise similar
      self-denial?
    </p>
    <p>
      5.&mdash;This morning, while performing my ablutions with a large sponge,
      a centipede, four and a half inches long, crawled out of one of the
      orifices, and, ran over my hand. The venomous reptile was killed, without
      any harm being done. It had probably been hidden in one of a number of
      large land-shells, which I brought on board a day or two ago. His touch
      upon my hand was the most disagreeable sensation that I have yet
      experienced in Africa.
    </p>
    <p>
      For a month past it has rained almost every night, but only three or four
      times during the day. The tornadoes have not troubled us, and the regular
      land and sea-breezes prevail.
    </p>
    <p>
      6.&mdash;At 4 P. M., anchored off Cape Palmas. The Decatur had hardly
      clewed up her top-sails, when she was directed by signal to make sail
      again. Shortly afterwards, a boat from the frigate brought us intelligence
      that there is trouble here between the natives and the colonists. The
      boats are ordered to be in readiness to go ashore to-morrow, in order to
      settle a palaver. The Decatur has gone to Caraway to protect the
      missionaries there. Thus we are in a fair way to have plenty of work,
      palavering with the natives and protecting the colonists. Not improbably,
      the latter have felt encouraged, by the presence of our squadron, to
      assume a higher tone towards the natives than heretofore. But we shall
      see.
    </p>
    <p>
      8.&mdash;We landed, this morning, with nine armed boats, to examine into
      the difficulties above alluded to. The first duty that it fell to our lot
      to perform, was one of humanity. We had scarcely reached Governor
      Russwurm's house, when, observing a crowd of people about a mile off, on
      the beach, we learned that a man was undergoing the ordeal of drinking
      sassy-wood. The Commodore, with most of the officers, hastened immediately
      to the rescue. On approaching the spot, we saw a woman with an infant on
      her back, walking to and fro, wailing bitterly, and throwing up her arms
      in agony. Further on, we met four children, from eight to twelve years of
      age, crying loudly as they came towards us, and apparently imploring us to
      save their father. Beyond them, and as near the crowd as she dared go,
      stood a young woman, supporting herself on a staff, with the tears
      streaming down her cheeks, while she gazed earnestly at the spot where her
      husband was suffering. Although she took no notice of us, her low moans
      were more impressive than the vociferous agony of the former woman; and we
      could not but suppose that the man was peculiarly amiable in the domestic
      relations, since his impending fate awakened more grief in the hearts of
      <i>two</i> wives, than, in civilized life, we generally see exhibited by
      one. Meeting a colonist, with intelligence that the victim was nearly
      dead, we quickened our pace to a fast run.
    </p>
    <p>
      Before we could reach the spot, however, the man had been put into a
      canoe, and paddled out into a lagoon by one of the party, while the
      remainder moved on to meet us. The Commodore ordered two of the leaders to
      be seized and kept prisoners, until the drinker of sassy-wood should be
      given up. This had the desired effect; and, in half an hour, there came to
      the Government House a hard-featured man of about fifty, escorted by a
      crowd, no small portion of which was composed of his own multifarious
      wives and children, all displaying symptoms of high satisfaction. He
      looked much exhausted, but was taken into the house and treated medically,
      with the desired success. When sufficiently recovered he will be sent to a
      neighboring town, where he must remain, until permitted by the customs of
      his people to return. He had been subjected to the ordeal, in order to
      test the truth or falsehood of an accusation brought against him, of
      having caused the death of a man of consequence, by incantations and
      necromantic arts. In such cases, a strong decoction of the sassy-wood bark
      is the universally acknowledged medium of coming at the truth. The natives
      believe that the tree has a supernatural quality, potent in destroying
      witches and driving out evil spirits; nor, although few escape, do the
      accused persons often object to quaffing the deadly draught. If it fail to
      operate fatally, it is generally by the connivance of those who administer
      it, in concocting the potion of such strength that the stomach shall
      reject it. Should the suspected wizard escape the operation of the
      sassy-wood, it is customary to kill him by beating on the head with clubs
      and stones; his property is forfeited; and the party accusing him feast on
      the cattle of their victim. The man whom we rescued had taken a gallon of
      the decoction the previous evening, and about the same quantity just
      before we interrupted the ordeal. His wealth had probably excited the envy
      of his accusers.
    </p>
    <p>
      We had just returned to the Government House and were about to seat
      ourselves at the dinner-table, when an alarm-gun was heard from Mount
      Tubman. A messenger soon arrived to say that the natives were attempting
      to force their way through the settlement, to the Cape. The marines,
      together with all the officers who could be spared, were instantly on the
      march. The Commodore and Governor Russwurm led the force, on horseback;
      the flag-lieutenant and myself being the only other officers fortunate
      enough to procure animals. Mine was the queerest charger on which a knight
      ever rode to battle; a little donkey, scarcely high enough to keep my feet
      from the ground; so lazy that I could only force him into a trot by the
      continual prick of my sword; and so vicious that he threw me twice, in
      requital of my treatment. The rest of the detachment footed it four miles,
      on a sandy road, and under the scorching sun. On the way we overtook
      several armed colonists, hurrying to the point of danger. Passing the foot
      of Mount Vaughan we reached Mount Tubman, and, ascending a steep, conical
      hill, found ourselves on a level space of a hundred yards in diameter,
      with a strong picket-fence surrounding it, and a solitary house in the
      centre. Fifteen or sixteen armed men were on the watch, as conscious of
      the neighborhood of an enemy; the piazza was crowded with women and
      children; and from the interior of the house came the merry voices of
      above a score of little boys and girls, ignorant of danger, and enjoying a
      high frolic. Apart, by the wall, sat a blind man, grasping his staff with
      a tremulous hand; and near him lay a sick woman, who had been brought in
      from a neighboring farm-house. All these individuals, old and young, had
      been driven hither for refuge by the alarm of war.
    </p>
    <p>
      Not far off, we beheld tokens that an attack had been made, and sternly
      resisted by the little garrison of the stockade. On the side opposite the
      Cape, a steep path rose towards the gate. Some twenty yards down this
      passage lay a native, dead, with an ugly hole in his scull; and, in a
      narrow path to the right, was stretched another, who had met his death
      from a bullet-wound in the centre of his forehead. The ball had cut the
      ligature which bound his "greegree" of shells around his head, and the
      faithless charm lay on the ground beside him. Already, the flies were
      beginning to cluster about the dead man's mouth. The attacking party, to
      which these slain individuals belonged, were of the Barroky tribe. It is
      supposed that, knowing King Freeman to be at variance with the colonists,
      and hearing the salute in honor of the Commodore's landing, they mistook
      it for the commencement of hostilities, and came in to support the native
      party and gather spoil.
    </p>
    <p>
      As their repulse had evidently been decisive, we looked around us to enjoy
      the extensive and diversified view from the summit of the hill. Casting
      our eyes along the road which we had just passed, the principal settlement
      was visible, consisting of two separate villages, intermingled with large
      native towns, the dwellings in which greatly outnumbered those of the
      colonists. On one side of the rude promontory ran a small river; on the
      other, the sea rolled its unquiet waves. At a short distance from the
      shore was seen the rocky islet, bearing the name of Go-to-Hell, where the
      natives bury their dead. Northward, were the farms of those whom the
      recent hostile incursion had driven to this place of refuge. In various
      directions, several spurs of hills were visible, on one of which,
      glittering among the trees, appeared the white edifices of the Mount
      Vaughan Episcopal Mission.
    </p>
    <p>
      On our return, some of the party halted at the Mission establishment; but
      I urged my little donkey onward, and, though this warlike episode had cost
      me a dinner, made my re-appearance at the Governor's table in time for the
      dessert.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER IX.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Palaver with King Freeman&mdash;Remarks on the Influence of Missionaries&mdash;Palaver
      at Rock Boukir&mdash;Narrative of Captain Farwell's Murder&mdash;Scene of
      Embarkation through the Surf&mdash;Sail for Little Berebee.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>December</i> 9.&mdash;At Cape Palmas. We again landed, as on the
      preceding day, and met the redoubtable King Freeman, and twenty-three
      other kings and headmen from the tribes in the vicinity. The palaver, like
      that at Sinoe, was held in the Methodist Church; the Commodore, the
      Governor, and several officers and colonists, appearing on one side, and
      the natives on the other. There were several striking countenances among
      the four-and-twenty negro potentates, and some, even, that bore the marks
      of native greatness; as might well be the case, in a system of society
      where rank and authority are, in a great measure, the result of individual
      talent and force of character. One head man was very like Henry Clay, both
      in face and figure. It is remarkable, too, that one of the chiefs at Sinoe
      not only had a strong personal resemblance to the same distinguished
      statesman&mdash;being, as it were, his image in ebony, or bronze&mdash;but,
      while not speaking, moved constantly about the palaver-house, as is Mr.
      Clay's habit in the senate-chamber. The interpreter, on the present
      occasion, Yellow Will by name, was dressed in a crimson mantle of silk
      damask, poncho-shaped, and trimmed with broad gold lace.
    </p>
    <p>
      The palaver being opened, the colonists complained that the chiefs had
      raised to double what it had been, or ought to be, the prices of rice and
      other products, for which the settlements were dependent upon the natives;
      also, that they would permit no merchant vessels to communicate with the
      colonial town. On representation of these grievances, the Kings agreed to
      rescind the obnoxious regulations. This, however, did not satisfy the
      Governor, who had hoped to induce King Freeman to remove his town to
      another site, and allow the colonists more room. As matters at present
      stand, the King's capital city is within three hundred yards of Governor
      Russwurm's house, and entirely disunites the colonial settlements on the
      Cape. In case of war, the communication between these two sections of the
      town of Harper would be completely broken off. The Governor, therefore,
      proposed that King Freeman should sell his land on the Cape, receiving a
      fair equivalent from the colony, and should transplant his town across the
      river, or elsewhere. But the King showed no inclination to comply; nor did
      the Commodore, apparently, deem it his province to support Governor
      Russwurm, or take any part in the question. The point was accordingly
      given up; the Governor merely requesting King Freeman to "look his head,"
      that is, consider&mdash;and let him know his determination.
    </p>
    <p>
      There was also a complaint made, on the part of the missionaries, that the
      natives had cut off their supplies, and had attempted to take away the
      native children, who had been given them to educate. I was subsequently
      informed, however, by the Rev. Mr. Hazlehurst, that the missionaries had
      no difficulty with the natives, and did not wish their affairs to be
      identified with those of the colonists. The above representation,
      therefore, appears to have been unauthorized by the mission establishment.
      And here, without presuming to offer an opinion as respects their conduct
      at this particular juncture, I must be allowed to say, that the
      missionaries at Liberia have shown themselves systematically disposed to
      claim a position entirely independent of the colonies. They are supported
      by wealthy and powerful societies at home; they have been accustomed to
      look upon their own race as superior to the colored people; they are
      individually conscious, no doubt, in many cases, of an intellectual
      standing above that of the persons prominent among the emigrants; and they
      are not always careful to conceal their sense of such general or
      particular superiority. It is certain, too, that the native Africans
      regard the whites with much greater respect than those of their own color.
      Hence, it is almost impossible but that jealousy of missionary influence
      should exist in the minds of the colonial authorities. The latter
      perceive, in the midst of their commonwealth, an alien power, exercised by
      persons not entitled to the privileges of citizenship, and to whom it was
      never intended to allow voice or action in public affairs. By such a state
      of things, the progress of Christianity and civilisation must be rather
      retarded than advanced.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is reason, therefore, to doubt whether the labors of white
      missionaries, in the territory over which the colonists exercise
      jurisdiction, is, upon the whole, beneficial. If removed beyond those
      limits, and insulated among the natives, they may accomplish infinite
      good; but not while assuming an anomalous position of independence, and
      thwarting the great experiment which the founders of Liberia had in view.
      One grand object of these colonies is, to test the disputed and doubtful
      point, whether the colored race be capable of sustaining themselves
      without the aid or presence of the whites. In order to a fair trial of the
      question, it seems essential that none but colored missionaries should be
      sent hither. The difficulties between the Government and the Methodist
      Episcopal mission confirm these views. At a former period, that mission
      possessed power almost sufficient to subvert the Colonial rule.
    </p>
    <p>
      Let it not be supposed, that these remarks are offered in any spirit of
      hostility to missionaries. My intercourse with them in different parts of
      the world, has been of the most friendly nature. I owe much to their
      kindness, and can bear cheerful testimony to the laborious, self-devoting
      spirit in which they do their duty. At Athens, I have seen them toiling
      unremittingly, for years, to educate the ignorant and degraded descendants
      of the ancient Greeks, and was proud that my own country&mdash;in a
      hemisphere of which Plato never dreamed&mdash;should have sent back to
      Greece a holier wisdom than he diffused from thence. In the unhealthy isle
      of Cyprus, I have beheld them perishing without a murmur, and their places
      filled with new votaries, stepping over the graves of the departed, and
      not less ready to spend and be spent in the cause of their Divine Master.
      I have witnessed the flight of whole families from the mountains of
      Lebanon, where they had lingered until its cedars were prostrate beneath
      the storm of war, and only then came to shelter themselves under the flag
      of their country. Everywhere, the spirit of the American Missionaries has
      been honorable to their native land; nor, whatever be their human
      imperfections, is it too much to term them holy in their lives, and often
      martyrs in their deaths. And none more so than the very men of whom I now
      speak, in these sickly regions of Africa, where I behold them sinking,
      more or less gradually, but with certainty, and destitute of almost every
      earthly comfort, into their graves. I criticise portions of their conduct,
      but reverence their purity of motive; and only regret, that, while
      divesting themselves of so much that is worldly, they do not retain either
      more wisdom of this world, or less aptness to apply a disturbing influence
      to worldly affairs.
    </p>
    <p>
      But it is time to return from this digression. Matters being now in a good
      train at Cape Palmas, we go to use our pacific influence elsewhere.
    </p>
    <p>
      10.&mdash;We sailed at daylight, and anchored this evening at Rock Boukir.
    </p>
    <p>
      11.&mdash;In the morning, twelve armed boats were sent ashore from the
      three ships. We landed on an open beach, all in safety, but more or less
      drenched by the dangerous surf. One or two boats took in heavy seas,
      broached to, and rolled over and over in the gigantic surf-wave. On
      landing, we found a body of armed natives, perhaps fifty in number, drawn
      up in a line. Their weapons were muskets, iron war-spears, long
      fish-spears of wood, and broad knives. They made no demonstrations of
      opposing us, but stood stoutly in their ranks, showing more independence
      of bearing and less fear, than any natives whom we have met with. They
      were evidently under military rule, and, as well as the remainder of the
      tribe, evinced a degree of boldness, amounting almost to insolence, which,
      it must be owned, would have made our party the more ready for a tustle,
      on any reasonable pretext.
    </p>
    <p>
      The town of Rock Boukir is enclosed by palisades, about eight feet high,
      with small gates on every side. It was not the purpose of the natives to
      admit us within their walls; but a rain made it desirable that the palaver
      should be held in a sheltered place, instead of on the beach, as had been
      originally intended.
    </p>
    <p>
      We therefore marched in, took possession of the place, and stationed
      sentinels at every gate. The town was entirely deserted; for the warriors
      had gone forth to fight, if a fight there was to be; and the women and
      children were sent for security into the "bush." In the central square
      stood the Palaver House, beneath the shadow of a magnificent
      wide-spreading tree, which had perhaps mingled the murmur of its leaves
      with the eloquence of the native orators, for at least a century. Here we
      posted ourselves, and awaited the King of Rock Boukir.
    </p>
    <p>
      The messengers announced, that he wished to bring his armed men within the
      walls, and occupy one side of the town, while our party held the other. As
      this proposition was not immediately acceded to, and as the King would not
      recede, it seemed doubtful whether there would be any palaver, after all.
      At length, however, the Commodore ordered the removal of our sentinels
      from the gates, on one side of the town, and consented that the native
      warriors should come in. A further delay was accounted for, on the plea
      that the King was putting on his robes of state. Finally, he entered the
      Palaver House and seated himself; an old man of sinister aspect, meanly
      dressed, and having for his only weapon a short sword, with a curved
      blade, six inches wide. Governor Roberts now opened the palaver, by
      informing the king that his tribe were suspected of having participated in
      the plunder of the Mary Carver, and the murder of her captain and crew. I
      subjoin a brief narrative of this affair.
    </p>
    <p>
      Two years since, the schooner Mary Carver, of Salem, commanded by Captain
      Farwell of Vassalboro', was anchored at Half Berebee, for the purpose of
      trading with the natives. Her cargo was valued at twelve thousand dollars.
      Captain Farwell felt great confidence in the people of Half Berebee,
      although warned not to trust them too far, as they had the character of
      being fierce and treacherous. One day, being alone on shore, the natives
      knocked him down, bound him, and delivered him to the women and children,
      to be tortured by sticking thorns into his flesh. After three hours of
      this horrible agony, the men despatched him. As soon as the captain was
      secured, a large party was sent on board the vessel, to surprise and
      murder the mate and crew. In this they were perfectly successful; not a
      soul on board escaped. They then took part of the goods out, and ran the
      schooner ashore, where she was effectually plundered. Within a space of
      twelve miles along the beach, there are five or six families of Fishmen,
      ruled by different members of the Cracko family, of which Ben Cracko of
      Half Berebee is the head. All these towns were implicated in the plot, and
      received a share of the plunder. A Portuguese schooner had been taken, and
      her crew murdered, at the same place, a year before. The business had
      turned out so profitably, that other tribes on the coast began to envy the
      good fortune of the Crackos, and declared that they likewise were going to
      "catch" a vessel.
    </p>
    <p>
      The object of our present palaver was to inquire into the alleged agency
      of the tribe at Rock Boukir in the above transaction. The King, speaking
      in his own language, strenuously denied the charge; at the same time
      touching his ears and drawing his tongue over his short curved
      broad-sword. By these symbols and hieroglyphics, I supposed him to mean,
      that he had merely heard of the affair, and that his sword was innocent of
      the blood imputed to him. It seems, however, that it is the native form of
      taking an oath, equivalent to our kissing the book. The King agreed to go
      to Berebee, and assist in the grand palaver to be held there; complying
      with a proposal of the Commodore, to take passage thither in the
      Macedonian. Matters being so far settled, the council was broken up, and
      the party re-embarked.
    </p>
    <p>
      Several of the boats having been anchored outside of the surf, the
      officers and men were carried off to them in the native canoes. The scene
      on the beach was quite animated. Hundreds of natives, having laid aside
      their weapons, crowded around to watch the proceedings. The women and
      children came from the woods in swarms, all talking, screaming, laughing,
      and running hither and thither. The canoes were constantly passing from
      the shore to the boats, carrying two persons at a time. Our men, being
      unaccustomed to such rough water and unsteady conveyances, often capsized
      the canoes and were tumbled ashore by the surf, perhaps with the loss of
      hats, jackets, or weapons. Here was visible the head of a marine, swimming
      to one of the boats, with his musket in his hand. Another, unable to swim,
      was upheld by a Krooman. Here and there, an impatient individual plunged
      into the surf and struck out for his boat, rather than await the tedious
      process of embarkation. All reached the vessels in safety, but few with
      dry jackets. His majesty of Rock Boukir, too, went on board the frigate,
      according to agreement, and probably, by this mark of confidence, saved
      his capital from the flames. If all stories be true, he little deserves
      our clemency; and it is even said, that the different tribes held a grand
      palaver at this place, for the division of the spoil of the Mary Carver.
    </p>
    <p>
      We set sail immediately.
    </p>
    <p>
      12.&mdash;Anchored at half past five P.M., off Little Berebee.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER X.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Palaver at Little Berebee&mdash;Death of the Interpreter and King Ben
      Cracko, and burning of the Town&mdash;Battle with the Natives, and
      Conflagration of several Towns&mdash;Turkey Buzzards&mdash;A Love-Letter&mdash;Moral
      Reflections&mdash;Treaty of Grand Berebee&mdash;Prince Jumbo and his
      Father&mdash;Native system of Expresses&mdash;Curiosity of the Natives.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>December</i> 13.&mdash;At nine A.M., the boats of the squadron repaired
      to the flag-ship, where they were formed in line, and then pulled towards
      the shore abreast. The landing-place is tolerably good, but contracted.
      Four or five boats might easily approach it together; but when most of the
      thirteen attempted it at once, so narrow was the space, that one or two of
      them filled. They were hauled up, however, and secured. Our force, on
      being disembarked, was stationed in line, opposite the town of Little
      Berebee, and the wood in its immediate vicinity. Many of the officers went
      up to the Palaver House, a temporary shed erected for the occasion, about
      fifty yards from the town-gate. King Ben Cracko now making his appearance,
      with five or six headmen or kings of the neighboring tribes, the palaver
      began.
    </p>
    <p>
      The interpreter, on this occasion, was well known to have been, in his own
      person, a leading character in the act of piracy and murder, which it was
      the object of the palaver to investigate. He had therefore a difficult
      part to act; one that required great nerve, and such a talent of throwing
      a fair semblance over foul facts, as few men, civilized or savage, are
      likely to possess. With the consciousness of guilt upon him, causing him
      to startle at the first aspect of peril, it is singular that the man
      should have had the temerity to trust himself in so trying a position. His
      version of the Mary Carver affair was a very wretched piece of fiction. He
      declared that Captain Farwell had killed two natives, and that old King
      Cracko, since deceased, had punished the captain by death, in the exercise
      of his legitimate authority. He denied that the tribe had participated in
      Captain Farwell's murder, or in those of the mate and crew, or in the
      robbery of the vessel; affirming that the schooner had gone ashore, and
      that everything was lost. All this was a tissue of falsehood; it being
      notorious that a large quantity of goods from the wreck, and portions of
      the vessel itself, were distributed among the towns along the coast. It
      was well known, moreover, that these people had boasted of having "caught"
      (to use their own phrase), an American vessel, and that the neighboring
      tribes had threatened to follow Ben Cracko's example.
    </p>
    <p>
      Governor Roberts, who conducted the examination on our part, expressed to
      the man his utter disbelief of the above statements. The Commodore,
      likewise, stept hastily towards him, sternly warning him to utter no more
      falsehoods. The interpreter, perceiving that the impression was against
      him, and probably expecting to be instantly made prisoner, or put to
      death, now lost the audacity that had hitherto sustained him. At this
      moment, it is said, a gun was fired at our party, from the town; and,
      simultaneously with the report, the interpreter sprang away like a deer.
      There was a cry to stop him&mdash;two or three musket-bullets whistled
      after the fugitive as he ran&mdash;but he had nearly reached the
      town-gate, when his limbs, while strained to their utmost energy, suddenly
      failed beneath him. A rifle-shot had struck him in the vertebra of the
      neck, causing instantaneous death. Meanwhile, King Ben Cracko had made a
      bolt to escape, but was seized by his long calico robe; which, however,
      gave way, leaving him literally naked in the midst of his enemies. A shot
      brought him to the ground; but he sprang to his feet, still struggling to
      escape. He next received two bayonet wounds, but fought like a wild beast,
      until two or three men flung themselves upon him, and held him down by
      main force. Finding himself overpowered, he pretended to be dead, but was
      securely bound, and taken to the beach. A lion of the African deserts
      could not have shown a fiercer energy than this savage King; and those who
      gazed at him, as he lay motionless on the sand, confessed that they had
      never seen a frame of such masculine vigor as was here displayed. His
      wounds proved mortal.
    </p>
    <p>
      The melée had been as sudden as the explosion of gunpowder; it was wholly
      unexpected, but perhaps not to be wondered at, where two parties, with
      weapons in their hands, had met to discuss a question of robbery and
      murder. When the firing commenced, about two hundred natives were on the
      spot, or in the vicinity; they were now flying in all directions, some
      along the beach, a few into the sea itself, but by far the greatest number
      to the woods. Many shots were fired, notwithstanding the Commodore's
      orders to refrain. We were now directed to break down the palisades, and
      set fire to the town. A breach of twenty or thirty feet was soon made in
      the wall, by severing the withes that bound together the upright planks.
      Before this could be effected, another party crept through the small
      holes, serving the purpose of gates, and penetrated to the centre of the
      town, where, assembling around the great council-tree, they gave three
      cheers. The houses were then set on fire, and, within fifteen minutes,
      presented one mass of conflagration. The palisades likewise caught the
      flames, and were consumed, leaving an open space of blackened and smoking
      ruins, where, half an hour before, the sun had shone upon a town.
    </p>
    <p>
      The natives did not remain idle spectators of the destruction of their
      houses. Advancing to the edge of the woods, they discharged their muskets
      at us, loaded not with Christian bullets, but with copper-slugs, probably
      manufactured out of the spikes of the Mary Carver. A marine was struck in
      the side by one of these missiles, which tumbled him over, but without
      inflicting a serious wound. A party from our ship penetrated the woods
      behind the town, where one of them fired at an object which he perceived
      moving in the underbrush. Going up to the spot, it proved to be a very
      aged man, apparently on the verge of a century, much emaciated, and too
      feeble to crawl further in company with his flying towns-people. He was
      unharmed by the shot, but evidently expected instant death, and held up
      his hand in supplication. Our party placed the poor old patriarch in a
      more sheltered spot, and left him there, after supplying him with food; an
      act of humanity which must have seemed to him very singular, if not
      absurd, in contrast with the mischief which we had wrought upon his home
      and people. Meantime, the ships were disposed to have a share in the
      fight, and opened a cannonade upon the woods, shattering the great
      branches of the trees, and adding to the terror, if not to the loss, of
      the enemy. Little Berebee being now a heap of ashes, we re-embarked,
      taking with us an American flag, probably that of the Mary Carver, which
      had been found in the town. We also made prizes of several canoes, one of
      which was built for war, and capable of carrying forty men. The wounded
      King Cracko, likewise, was taken on board the frigate, where, next
      morning, he breathed his last; thus expiating the outrage in which, two
      years before, he had been a principal actor. We afterwards understood that
      the natives suffered a loss of eight killed and two wounded.
    </p>
    <p>
      15.&mdash;The season for palavers and diplomacy being now over, we landed
      at seven o'clock this morning, ten or twelve miles below Berebee, in order
      to measure out a further retribution to the natives. On approaching the
      beach, we were fired upon from the bushes, but without damage, although
      the enemy were sheltered within twenty yards of the water's edge. The
      boat's crew first ashore, together with two or three marines, charged into
      the shrubbery and drove off the assailants. All being disembarked, the
      detachment was formed in line, and marched to the nearest town, which was
      immediately attacked. Like the other native towns, it was protected by a
      wall of high palisades, planted firmly in the soil, and bound together by
      thongs of bamboo. Cutting a passage through these, we entered the place,
      which contained perhaps a hundred houses, neatly built of wicker-work, and
      having their high conical roofs thatched with palmetto-leaves. Such
      edifices were in the highest degree combustible, and being set on fire, it
      was worth while for a lover of the picturesque to watch the flames, as
      they ran up the conical roofs, and meeting at the apex, whirled themselves
      fiercely into the darkened air.
    </p>
    <p>
      While this was going on, the war-bells, drums, and war-horns of the
      natives were continually sounding; and flocks of vultures (perhaps a more
      accurate ornithologist might call them turkey-buzzards) appeared in the
      sky, wheeling slowly and heavily over our heads. These ravenous birds
      seemed to have a presentiment that there were deeds of valor to be done:
      nor was it quite a comfortable idea, that some of them, ere nightfall,
      might gratify their appetite at one's own personal expense. To confess the
      truth, however, they were probably attracted by the scent of some
      slaughtered bullocks; it being indifferent to a turkey-buzzard whether he
      prey on a cow or a Christian. After destroying the first town, we marched
      about a mile and a half up the beach, to attack a second. On our advance,
      the marine drummer and fifer were ordered from the front of the column to
      the rear, as being a position of less danger. They of course obeyed; but
      the little drummer deeming it a reflection upon his courage, burst into
      tears, and actually blubbered aloud as he beat the <i>pas de charge</i>.
      It was a strange operation of manly spirit in a boyish stage of
      development.
    </p>
    <p>
      As we approached the second town, our boat-keepers, who watched the scene,
      distinctly saw a party of thirty or forty natives lying behind a palisade,
      with their guns pointed at our advanced guard. Unconscious that the enemy
      were so near, we halted for an instant, about forty yards from the town,
      and then advanced at a run. This so disconcerted the defenders that they
      fled, after firing only a few shots, none of which took effect. In fact,
      the natives proved themselves but miserable marksmen. They can seldom hit
      an object in motion, although, if a man stand still, they sometimes manage
      to put a copper-slug into his body, by taking aim a long time. After
      firing, the savage runs a long distance before he ventures to load. Had
      their skill or their hardihood been greater, we must have suffered
      severely; for the woods extended nearly to the water's edge, and exposed
      us, during the whole day, to the fire of a sheltered and invisible enemy.
    </p>
    <p>
      After the storm and conflagration of the second town, we took a brief
      rest, and then proceeded to capture and burn another, situated about a
      mile to the northward. This accomplished, we judged it to be dinner-time.
      Indeed, we had done work enough to ensure an appetite; and history does
      not make mention, so far as I am aware, of such destruction of cities so
      expeditiously effected. Having emptied our baskets, we advanced about
      three miles along the beach&mdash;still with the slugs of the enemy
      whistling in our ears&mdash;and gave to the devouring element another
      town. Man is perhaps never happier than when his native destructiveness
      can be freely exercised, and with the benevolent complacency of performing
      a good action, instead of the remorse of perpetrating a bad one. It unites
      the charms of sin and virtue. Thus, in all probability, few of us had ever
      spent a day of higher enjoyment than this, when we roamed about, with a
      musket in one hand and a torch in the other, devastating what had hitherto
      been the homes of a people.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of the sweetest spots that I have seen in Africa, was a little hamlet
      of three houses, standing apart from the four large towns above-mentioned,
      and surrounded by an impervious hedge of thorn-bushes, with two palisaded
      entrances. Forcing our way through one of these narrow portals, we beheld
      a grassy area of about fifty yards across, overshadowed by a tree of very
      dense foliage, which had its massive roots in the centre, and spread its
      great protecting branches over the whole enclosure. The three dwellings
      were of the same sort of basket-work as those already described, but
      particularly neat, and giving a pleasant impression of the domestic life
      of their inhabitants. This small, secluded hamlet had probably been the
      residence of one family, a patriarch, perhaps, with his descendants to the
      third or fourth generation&mdash;who, beneath that shadowy tree, must have
      enjoyed all the happiness of which uncultivated man is susceptible. Nor
      would it be too great a stretch of liberality, to suppose that the green
      hedge of impervious thorns had kept out the vices of their race, and that
      the little area within was a sphere where all the virtues of the native
      African had been put in daily practice. These three dwellings, and the
      verdant wall around them, and the great tree that brooded over the whole,
      might unquestionably have been spared, with safety to our consciences. But
      when man takes upon himself the office of an avenger by the sword, he is
      not to be perplexed with such little scrupulosities, as whether one
      individual or family be less guilty than the rest. Providence, it is to be
      presumed, will find some method of setting such matters right. In fine,
      when the negro patriarch's strong sable sons supported their decrepit sire
      homeward, with their wives, "black, but comely," bearing the glistening,
      satin-skinned babies on their backs, and their other little ebony
      responsibilities trudging in the rear, there must have been a dismal wail;
      for there was the ancestral tree, its foliage shrivelled with fire,
      stretching out its desolate arms over the ashes of the three wicker
      dwellings.
    </p>
    <p>
      The business of the day was over. Besides short excursions, and charges
      into the bush, the men had marched and countermarched at least twelve
      miles upon the beach, with the surf sometimes rolling far beyond our
      track. Some hundreds of slugs had been fired at us; and, on our part, we
      had blazed away at every native who had ventured to show his face; but the
      amount of casualties, after such a day of battle, reminds one of the
      bloodless victories and defeats of an Italian army, during the middle
      ages. In a word, we had but two men wounded; and whether any of the enemy
      were killed or no, it is impossible to say. At all events, we slew a
      number of neat cattle, eight or nine of which were sent on board the
      ships, where they answered a much better purpose than as many human
      carcasses. The other spoil consisted of several canoes, together with
      numerous household utensils&mdash;which we shall bring home as trophies
      and curiosities. There was also a chain cable, and many other articles
      belonging to the Mary Carver, and a pocket-book, containing a letter
      addressed to Captain Robert McFarland. The purport of the epistle is not a
      matter of public interest; but it was written in a lady's delicate hand,
      and was probably warm with affection; and little did the fair writer dream
      that her missive would find its way into an African hut, where it was
      probably regarded as a piece of witchcraft.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus ended the warfare of Little Berebee. The degree of retribution meted
      out had by no means exceeded what the original outrage demanded; and the
      mode of it was sanctioned by the customs of the African people. According
      to their unwritten laws, if individuals of a tribe commit a crime against
      another tribe or nation, the criminal must either be delivered up, or
      punished at home, or the tribe itself becomes responsible for their guilt.
      An example was of peremptory necessity; and the American vessels trading
      on the coast will long experience a good effect from this day's battle and
      destruction. The story will be remembered in the black man's traditions,
      and will have its due weight in many a palaver. Nevertheless, though the
      burning of villages be a very pretty pastime, yet it leaves us in a
      moralizing mood, as most pleasures are apt to do; and one would fain hope
      that civilized man, in his controversies with the barbarian, will at
      length cease to descend to the barbarian level, and may adopt some other
      method of proving his superiority, than by his greater power to inflict
      suffering. For myself personally, the "good old way" suits me tolerably
      enough; but I am disinterestedly anxious that posterity should find a
      better.
    </p>
    <p>
      16.&mdash;We sailed at day-light for Grand Berebee. Nearing the point on
      which it is situated, the ships hoisted white flags at the fore, in token
      of amity. A message was sent on shore to the King, who came off in a large
      canoe, and set his hand to a treaty, promising to keep good faith with
      American vessels. He likewise made himself responsible for the good
      conduct of the other tribes in the vicinity.
    </p>
    <p>
      On board the Macedonian, there were five prisoners, who had been taken two
      months ago, by the brig Porpoise. One was the eldest son of this King, and
      the others belonged to his tribe. The meeting between the King and prince
      was very affecting, and fully proved that nature has not left these wild
      people destitute of warmth and tenderness of heart. They threw themselves
      into each other's arms, wept, laughed, and danced for joy. To the King,
      his son was like one risen from the dead; he had given him up for lost,
      supposing that the young man had been executed. The prisoners were each
      presented with a new frock and trowsers, besides tobacco, handkerchiefs,
      and other suitable gifts. The prince received a lieutenant's old uniform
      coat; and when they got into their canoe, it was amusing to see how
      awkwardly he paddled, in this outlandish trim. He made two or three
      attempts to get the coat off, but without success. One of his companions
      then offered his assistance; but as he took the prince by the collar,
      instead of the sleeve, it was found impracticable to rid him of the
      garment. The more he pulled, the less it would come off; and the last we
      saw of Prince Jumbo, he was holding up his skirts in one hand, and
      paddling with the other. There will be grand rejoicings to-night, on the
      return of the prisoners. All will be dancing and jollity; plays will be
      performed; the villages will re-echo with the report of fire-arms and the
      clamor of drums; and the whole population will hold a feast of bullocks.
    </p>
    <p>
      20.&mdash;Anchored at Cape Palmas. The natives here were alarmed at the
      return of the three ships; and many of them carried away their moveables
      into the woods. News of the destruction of the towns below had reached
      them several days since. They have a simple, but very effective system of
      expresses. When information of great interest is to be conveyed from tribe
      to tribe, one of their swiftest runners is despatched, who makes what
      speed he can, and, when tired, entrusts his message to another. Thus it is
      speeded on, without a moment's delay. Should the runner encounter a river
      in his course, he shouts his news across; it is caught up on the other
      side, and immediately sent forward. In this manner, intelligence finds its
      way along the coast with marvellous celerity.
    </p>
    <p>
      23.&mdash;We sailed two days ago. Yesterday, there came off from the
      shore, some six or eight miles, a couple of canoes, paddled by six men
      each, who exerted themselves to the utmost to overtake us. They had
      nothing to sell; and their only object seemed to be, to obtain the
      particulars of the fight and conflagration at Little Berebee, a hundred
      and fifty miles below.
    </p>
    <p>
      25.&mdash;Anchored at Monrovia, and landed Governor Roberts, who, with Dr.
      Johnson, had been a passenger from Cape Palmas.
    </p>
    <p>
      28.&mdash;Sailed for Porto Praya, with the intention of visiting Madeira,
      before returning to the coast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XI.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Madeira&mdash;Aspect of the Island&mdash;Annual races&mdash;"Hail
      Columbia!"&mdash;Ladies, Cavaliers, and Peasants&mdash;Dissertation upon
      Wines&mdash;The Clerks of Funchal&mdash;Decay of the Wine-Trade&mdash;Cultivation
      of Pine-Trees&mdash;A Night in the Streets&mdash;Beautiful Church&mdash;A
      Sunday-evening Party&mdash;Currency of Madeira.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>January</i> 19, 1844.&mdash;We made Madeira yesterday, but, the weather
      being thick and squally, stood off and on until to-day.
    </p>
    <p>
      20. Our ship rides gently at her anchor. The Loo rock rises fifty feet
      perpendicular from the water, at so short a distance, that we can hear the
      drum beat tattoo in the small, inaccessible castle, on its summit. This
      rock is the outpost of the city of Funchal. The city stretches along the
      narrow strip of level ground, near the shore, with vine-clad hills rising
      steeply behind. On the slopes of these eminences are many large houses,
      surrounded with splendid gardens, and occupied by wealthy inhabitants,
      chiefly Englishmen, who have retired upon their fortunes, or are still
      engaged in business. On a height to the left, stands a castle of
      considerable size, in good repair. High up among the hills, in bold
      relief, is seen the church of Our Lady of the Mount, with its white walls
      and two towers. The hills are rugged, steep, and furrowed with deep
      ravines, along which, after the heavy rains of winter, the mountain
      torrents dash headlong to the sea.
    </p>
    <p>
      My remarks on Madeira will be thrown together without the regularity of a
      daily journal; for our visit to the island proves so delightful, that it
      seems better worth the while to enjoy, than to describe it.
    </p>
    <p>
      The annual races are well attended. During their continuance, throngs of
      passengers, on foot, on horseback, and in palanquins, are continually
      proceeding to the course, a little more than a mile and a half from town.
      The road thither constantly ascends, until you find yourself several
      hundred feet above the sea, with an extensive prospect beneath and around.
      A tolerable space for the track is here afforded by an oblong plain,
      seven-eighths of a mile in length. Near the judges' stand was a large
      collection of persons of all classes, ladies, dandies, peasants, and
      jockeys. Here, too, were booths for the sale of eatables and drinkables,
      and a band of music to enliven the scene.
    </p>
    <p>
      These musicians saw fit to honor us in a very particular manner. They had
      all agreed to ship on board our vessel; and, with a view to please their
      new masters, when three or four of our officers rode into the course, they
      played "Hail Columbia." We took off our caps in acknowledgment, and
      thought it all very fine. Directly afterwards, two other officers rode in,
      and were likewise saluted with "Hail Columbia!" Anon, two or three of us
      dismounted and strolled about among the people, thinking nothing of the
      band, until we were reminded of their proximity by the old tune again. In
      short, every motion on our part, however innocent and unpretending, caused
      the hills of Madeira to resound with the echoes of our national air.
      Finding that our position assumed a cast of the ridiculous, we gave the
      leader to understand, that, if the tune were played again, the band's
      first experience of maritime life should be a flogging at the gangway. The
      hint was sufficient; not only did we hear no more of "Hail Columbia," but
      none of the musicians ever came near the ship.
    </p>
    <p>
      With few exceptions the running was wretched. One or two of the
      match-races (which were ten in number, all single heats, of a mile each)
      were well contested. The first was run by two ponies; a fat black one with
      a chubby boy on his back, and a red, which, as well as his rider, was in
      better racing condition. The black was beaten out of sight. The second
      race was by two other ponies, one of which took the lead, and evidently
      had the heels of his antagonist. Suddenly, however, he bolted, and leaped
      the wall, leaving the track to be trotted over by the slower colt. Two
      grey horses succeeded, and made pretty running; but their riders, instead
      of attending to business, joined hands, and rode a quarter of a mile in
      this amiable attitude. Rather than antagonists, one would have taken them
      for twin brethren, like two other famous horsemen, Castor and Pollux. To
      the ladies this mode of racing appeared delightful; but the remarks of our
      party, consisting of several English and American officers and gentlemen,
      were anything but complimentary. The last quarter of this heat was well
      run, one of the horses winning apparently by a neck. The judge, however, a
      Portuguese, decided that it was a dead heat.
    </p>
    <p>
      At one extremity of the course, the hill rises abruptly; and here were
      hundreds of persons of both sexes, in an excellent position to see the
      running, and to impart a pretty effect to the scene. A large number of
      peasantry were present, dressed in their peculiar costume, and taking
      great interest in the whole matter. Both men and women wear a little blue
      cap lined with scarlet, so small that one wonders how it sticks on the
      head. In shape it is like an inverted funnel, running up to a sharp point.
      The women have short, full dresses, with capes of a dark blue, trimmed
      with a lighter blue, or of scarlet with blue trimming. These colors form a
      sectional distinction; the girls of the north side of the island wearing
      the scarlet capes, and those of the south side, the blue. In the intervals
      of the races, ladies and gentlemen cantered round the course, and some of
      them raced with their friends. Three Scottish ladies, with more youth than
      beauty, and dressed in their plaids, made themselves conspicuous by their
      bold riding, and quite carried off the palm of horsemanship from their
      cavaliers.
    </p>
    <p>
      A sketch of Madeira would be incomplete indeed, without some mention of
      its wines. Three years ago, when it was more a matter of personal
      interest, I visited this island, and gained considerable information on
      the subject. Madeira then produced about thirty thousand pipes annually,
      one third of which was consumed on the island, one-third distilled into
      brandy, and the remainder exported. About one-third of the exportation
      went to the United States, and the balance to other parts of the world.
      The best wines are principally sent to our own country&mdash;that is to
      say, the best exported&mdash;for very little of the first-rate wine goes
      out of the island. The process of adulteration is as thoroughly understood
      and practised here, as anywhere else. The wine sent to the United States
      is a kind that has been heated, to give it an artificial age. The mode of
      operation is simply to pour the wine into large vats, and submit it for
      several days to a heat of about 110º. After this ordeal, the wine is not
      much improved by keeping.
    </p>
    <p>
      There are other modes of adulteration, into the mysteries of which I was
      not admitted. One fact, communicated to me by an eminent wine-merchant,
      may shake the faith of our connoisseurs as to the genuineness of their
      favorite beverage. It is, that, from a single pipe of "mother wine," ten
      pipes are manufactured by the help of inferior wine. This "mother wine" is
      that which has been selected for its excellence, and is seldom exported
      pure. The wines, when fresh from the vintage, are as various in their
      flavor as our cider. It is by taste and <i>smell</i> that the various
      kinds are selected, after which the poorer wines are distilled into
      brandy, and the better are put in cases, and placed in store to ripen. The
      liquor is from time to time racked off, and otherwise managed until ready
      for exportation. It is <i>invariably</i> "treated" with brandy. French
      brandy was formerly used, which being now prohibited, that of the island
      is substituted, although of an inferior quality.
    </p>
    <p>
      Besides the "Madeira wine," so famous among convivialists, there are
      others of higher price and superior estimation. There is the "Sercial,"
      distinguished by a kind of Poppy taste. There is the Malmsey, or "Ladies'
      wine," and the "Vina Tinta," or Madeira Claret, as it is sometimes called.
      The latter is made of the black grapes, in a peculiar manner. After being
      pressed, the skins of the grapes are placed in a vat, where the juice is
      poured upon them and suffered to stand several days, until it has taken
      the hue required. The taste of this wine is between those of Port and
      Claret. There is a remarkable difference in the quality of the vintages of
      the north and south sides of the island; the former not being a third part
      so valuable as the latter. The poorer classes drink an inferior and acid
      wine.
    </p>
    <p>
      The vineyards are generally owned by rich proprietors, by whom they are
      farmed out to the laborer, who pays half the produce when the wine has
      been pressed; the government first taking its tenth. The grape-vines run
      along frame-work, raised four or five feet from the ground, so as to allow
      the cultivator room to weed the stalks beneath. The finest grapes are
      those which grow upon the sunny side of a wall. At the season of vintage,
      the grapes are placed in a kind of canoe, where they are first crushed by
      men's feet (all wines, even the richest and purest, having this original
      tincture of the human foot), and then pressed by a beam.
    </p>
    <p>
      Perhaps the very finest wines in the world are to be found collected at
      the suppers given by the clerks, in the large mercantile houses of
      Madeira. By an established custom, when one of their corps is about to
      leave the island, he gives an entertainment, to which every guest
      contributes a bottle or two of wine. It is a point of honor to produce the
      best; and as the clerks know, quite as well as their principals, where the
      best is to be found, and as the honor of their respective houses is to be
      sustained, it may well be imagined that all the <i>bon-vivants</i> on
      earth, were they to meet at one table, could hardly produce such a variety
      of fine old Madeira, as the clerks of Funchal then sip and descant upon.
      In no place do mercantile clerks hold so respectable a position in society
      as here; owing to the tacit understanding between their principals and
      themselves, that, at some future day, they are to be admitted as partners
      in the houses. This is so general a rule, that the clerk seems to hold a
      social position scarcely inferior to that of the head of the
      establishment. They prove their claim to this high consideration, by the
      zeal with which they improve their minds and cultivate their manners, in
      order to fill creditably the places to which they confidently aspire.
    </p>
    <p>
      At my second visit to Madeira, I find the wine trade at a very low ebb.
      The demand from America, owing to temperance, the tariff, and partly to an
      increased taste for Spanish, French, and German wines, is extremely small.
      Not a cargo has been shipped thither for three years. The construction
      given to the tariff, by the Secretary of the Treasury, will infuse new
      life into the trade.
    </p>
    <p>
      The hills around the city of Funchal are covered with vineyards, as far up
      as the grape will grow; then come the fields of vegetables; and the
      plantations of pine for the supply of the city. The island took its name
      from the great quantity of wood which overshadowed it, at its first
      discovery. This being long ago exhausted, considerable attention is paid
      to the cultivation of the pine-tree, which produces the most profitable
      kind of wood. In twelve or thirteen years, it is fit for the market, and
      commands a handsome price. Far up the mountains, we saw one plantation, in
      which fifty or sixty acres had been covered with pines, within a few
      years; some of the infant trees being only an inch high. Thus in the
      course of a morning's ride, we ascend from the region of the laughing and
      luxuriant vine, into that of the stately and sombre pine; it is like being
      transported by enchantment from the genial clime of Madeira into the
      rugged severity of a New England forest.
    </p>
    <p>
      In going up the mountain, the traveller encounters many peasants, both men
      and women, with bundles of weeds for horses, and sticks for fire-wood,
      which are carried upon the head. Thus laden, they walk several miles, and
      perhaps sell their burthens for ten or twelve cents apiece. Articles
      cannot easily be conveyed in any other manner, down the steep declivities
      of the hills. In the city, burthens are drawn by oxen, on little drags,
      which glide easily over the smooth, round pavements. The driver carries in
      his hand a long mop without a handle, or what a sailor would term a "wet
      swab." If any difficulty occur in drawing the load, this moist mop is
      thrown before the drag, which readily glides over it.
    </p>
    <p>
      The beggars of Funchal are numerous and importunate, and many of them
      wretched enough, as, in one instance, I had occasion to witness. With a
      friend, I had quitted a ball at two o'clock in the morning. The porter of
      our hotel, not expecting us at so late an hour, had retired; and, as all
      the family slept in the back part of the house, we were unable to awaken
      them by our long and furious knocking. Several Englishmen occupied the
      front apartments, but scorned to give themselves any trouble about the
      matter, except to breathe a slumberous execration against the disturbers
      of their sleep. On the other hand, our anathemas were louder, and quite as
      bitter upon these inhospitable inmates. Finally, after half an hour's
      vigorous but ineffectual assault upon the portal, we retreated in despair,
      and betook ourselves to walk the streets. The night was beautifully clear,
      but too cool for the enervated frame of an African voyager. We were tired
      with dancing, and occasionally sat down; but the door-steps were all of
      stone, and, though we buttoned our coats closely, it was impossible to
      remain long inactive.
    </p>
    <p>
      Near morning, we approached the door of the Cathedral, and were about to
      seat ourselves, when we perceived a person crouching on the spot, and
      apparently asleep. The slumber was not sound; for when we spoke, a young
      girl, a mere rose-bud of a woman, about fourteen years of age, arose and
      answered. She was very thinly clad; and, with her whole frame shivering,
      the poor thing assumed an airy and mirthful deportment, to attract us. It
      was grievous to imagine how many nights like this the unhappy girl was
      doomed to pass, and that all her nights were such, unless when vice and
      degradation procured her a temporary shelter. Ever since that hour, when I
      picture the pleasant island of Madeira, with its sunshine, and its
      vineyards, and its jovial inhabitants, the shadow of this miserable child
      glides through the scene.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of the most beautiful houses of worship I have ever seen, is the
      English church, just outside of the city of Funchal. The edifice has no
      steeple or bells, these being prohibited by the treaty between Portugal
      and Great Britain, which permits the English protestants to erect
      churches. You approach it through neat gravel walks, lined with the most
      brilliant flowers, and these in such magnificent profusion, that the
      building may be said to stand in the midst of a great flower-garden. The
      aspect is certainly more agreeable, if not more appropriate, than that of
      the tombstones and little hillocks which usually surround the sacred
      edifice; it is one method of rendering the way to Heaven a path of
      flowers. On entering the church, we perceive a circular apartment, lighted
      by a dome of stained glass. The finish of the interior is perfectly neat,
      but simple. The organ is fine-toned, and was skilfully played. Pleasant it
      was to see again a church full of well-dressed English&mdash;those Saxon
      faces, nearest of kin to our own&mdash;and to hear once more the familiar
      service, after being so long shut out from consecrated walls!
    </p>
    <p>
      Sunday is not observed with much strictness, in Madeira. On the evening of
      that day, I called at a friend's house, where thirty or forty persons, all
      Portuguese, were collected, without invitation. Music, dancing, and cards,
      were introduced for the entertainment of the guests. The elder portion sat
      down to whist; and, in a corner of the large dancing room, one of the
      gentlemen established a faro-bank, which attracted most of the company to
      look on, or bet. So much more powerful were the cards than the ladies,
      that it was found difficult to enlist gentlemen for a single cotillion.
      After a while, dancing was abandoned, and cards ruled supreme. The married
      ladies made bets as freely as the gentlemen; and several younger ones,
      though more reserved, yet found courage to put down their small stakes. I
      observed one sweet girl of sixteen, standing over the table, and watching
      the game with intense interest. Methought the game within her bosom was
      for a more serious stake than that upon the table, and better worth the
      observer's notice. Who should win it?&mdash;her guardian angel? or the
      gambling fiend? Alas, the latter! She bashfully drew a little purse from
      her bosom, and put her stake down with the rest.
    </p>
    <p>
      The currency of Madeira is principally composed of the old-fashioned
      twenty cent pieces, called cruzados, which pass at the rate of five for a
      dollar. Payments of thousands of dollars are made in this coin, which, not
      being profitable to remit, circulates from hand to hand.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XII.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Passage back to Liberia&mdash;Coffee Plantations&mdash;Dinner on Shore&mdash;Character
      of Col. Hicks&mdash;Shells and Sentiment&mdash;Visit to the Council
      Chamber&mdash;the New Georgia Representative&mdash;a Slave-Ship&mdash;Expedition
      up the St. Paul's&mdash;Sugar Manufactory&mdash;Maumee's beautiful
      Grand-Daughter&mdash;the Sleepy Disease&mdash;the Mangrove-Tree.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
 <i>February</i> 29.&mdash;We are on our return to Liberia. The ship is destined to
cruise along the whole coast, from Cape Mesurado to the river Gaboon,
touching at all important and interesting points. It will present the best
opportunity yet enjoyed, to observe whatever things worthy of notice the
country can present. Hourly, as we approach the coast, we perceive the
difference in temperature. It is a grateful change, that of winter to
summer. Last night was as mild as a summer evening at home. I remained on
the forecastle till midnight, enjoying the moonlight, the soft air, and
the cheerful song of a cricket, which had been, in some manner, brought on
board at Porto Praya, a week ago. He seems to be the merriest of the crew,
and now nightly pipes to the forecastle men.
</pre>
    <p>
      Our ship slides along almost imperceptibly, yet gets over the sea
      wonderfully well. She is a noble ship, stiff, fast, and dry. Her motion is
      very easy, and her performance, whether in strong or light breezes, is
      always excellent. Her grating-deck has been taken off, as it made her a
      little top-heavy and uneasy, and detracted from her speed; and she is
      infinitely better for the change.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>March</i> 2.&mdash;Anchored at Monrovia, in less than eight days from
      Porto Praya, although the winds were light, most of the time. Several of
      our Kroomen, who left us, two months ago, completely dressed in
      sailor-rig, came on board with only a hat and a handkerchief, and
      forthwith proceeded to haul upon the ropes, as before.
    </p>
    <p>
      6.&mdash;I have been walking through Judge Benedict's coffee-plantation,
      from the condition of which I find little encouragement to persons
      disposed to engage in the business. The trees are certainly not so
      thrifty, and are apparently less in number than they were three years ago.
      There is little or no weeding done; consequently, the plantation is
      overgrown with grass and bushes, and looks as if the forest might, at no
      distant day, reclaim its children. All the trees have been transplanted
      from the neighboring woods, and, it is said, do not flourish so well as
      those raised from seed, in nurseries. General Lewis has several thousand
      coffee-plants growing from the seed, and, in two or three years, will have
      tested the comparative advantages of this plan.
    </p>
    <p>
      I dined ashore to-day. At the table were a Dutchman, a Dane, four American
      officers, and Colonel Hicks. All, except myself, were good talkers, and
      composed a delightful dinnerparty. Colonel Hicks, of whom I have before
      spoken in this Journal, is one of the most shrewd, active and agreeable
      men in the colony. Once a slave in Kentucky, and afterwards in
      New-Orleans, he is now a commission-merchant in Monrovia, doing a business
      worth four or five thousand dollars per annum. Writing an elegant hand, he
      uses this accomplishment to the best advantage by inditing letters, on all
      occasions, to those who can give him business. If a French vessel shows
      her flag in the harbor, the Colonel's Krooman takes a letter to the
      master, written in his native language. If an American man-of-war, he
      writes in English, offering his services, and naming some person as his
      intimate friend, who will probably be known on board. Then he is so
      hospitable, and his house always so neat, and his table so good&mdash;his
      lady, moreover, is such a friendly, pleasant-tempered person, and so
      good-looking, into the bargain&mdash;that it is really a fortunate day for
      the stranger in Liberia, when he makes the acquaintance of Colonel and
      Mrs. Hicks. Every day, after the business of the morning is concluded, the
      Colonel dresses for dinner, which appears upon the table at three o'clock.
      He presides with genuine elegance and taste; his stories are good, and his
      quotations amusing. To be sure, he occasionally commits little mistakes,
      such, for instance, as speaking of America as his Alma Mater; but, on the
      whole, even without any allowance for a defective education, he appears
      wonderfully well. One circumstance is too indicative of strong sense, as
      well as good taste, not to be mentioned;&mdash;he is not ashamed of his
      color, but speaks of it without constraint, and without effort. Most
      colored men avoid alluding to their hue, thus betraying a morbid
      sensibility upon the point, as if it were a disgraceful and afflicting
      dispensation. Altogether the Colonel and his lady make many friends, and
      are as apparently happy, and as truly respectable as any couple here or
      elsewhere.
    </p>
    <p>
      Coming to the beach, we found no boat; and nearly half an hour passed
      before one arrived to take us on board. In the interim, I strolled along
      the shore, picking up the small shells, which the waves had thrown in
      abundance upon the sand. In the eye of a conchologist, they would have
      been of little value, as all of them were common, and none possessed more
      than a single valve. But the purple blush of the interior pleased me; and
      what is more, I was gathering these trifles for a lady whom I have never
      seen, yet whom I trust that I may venture to count among my friends. I
      know that she will be pleased with the poor offering and its giver; for
      each of these shells is linked with a thought that flew over the sea&mdash;from
      the sunset shore of Africa to a fireside in New England&mdash;and returned
      thence to the wanderer, bringing grateful fancies, reminiscences, and
      hopes. It was a smiling half-hour.
    </p>
    <p>
      9.&mdash;Ashore, and in the council-chamber. It is a spacious apartment on
      the second floor of the stone building recently erected for the purposes
      of a Legislative Hall and Court-House. The Governor presided, sitting in a
      high backed rocking-chair; which, by the by, the natives call a
      "Missionary Horse." The colonial Secretary acted as chief-clerk, and
      Doctor Prout, in gold-bowed spectacles, as his assistant. An ungainly lad,
      with big feet and striped hose, seemed to engross in his own person the
      offices of door-keeper, sergeant-at-arms, and page. The council proper
      consisted of ten members, who sat at separate desks, arranged
      semi-circularly in front of the Governor. The spectators occupied rude
      benches in the rear of the members.
    </p>
    <p>
      The question before the council related to the building of a market-house
      in Monrovia, at the expense of the commonwealth, as proposed in one of the
      sections of a bill to form a city government. This being a matter of some
      interest, each member expressed his views, but with such brevity that the
      whole debate occupied scarcely forty minutes, although several individuals
      spoke twice. This conciseness was less a virtue of choice than necessity,
      being attributable chiefly to the fact, that the presiding officer set his
      face against all vagaries of eloquence, and kept the speakers strictly to
      the point. If one wandered in the least, he was instantly called to order,
      and compelled to take his seat, upon the slightest deviation from the
      rules of the house. One of the members was a wilder specimen of humanity
      than even our legislative bodies at home have ever presented to an
      admiring world. He was a re-captured African, representing New Georgia, an
      uncouth figure of a man, who spoke very broken English, with great
      earnestness, and much to the amusement of his brother counsellors and the
      audience generally. I regret my inability to preserve either the matter or
      the manner of so original an orator.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here, as in the various other situations in which I have seen him placed,
      Governor Roberts acquitted himself as a dignified, manly, and sensible
      person. Deriving his appointment from the Society at home, he can act with
      more independence, in an official capacity, than if indebted to the voices
      of the members for his position.
    </p>
    <p>
      15.&mdash;At sea again, on our way to Gallenas.
    </p>
    <p>
      17.&mdash;Fell in with the English brig-of-war Ferret. Our captain went on
      board, and was told that she had been engaged with a large slaver, four
      days ago. Previous to the action, the slave-ship went to Gallenas, where
      the Ferret's pinnace was at anchor. She ran alongside of the boat, with
      three guns out on a side, and her waist full of musketeers&mdash;a
      superiority of force in view of which the pinnace did not venture to
      attack her; and the ship took in nine hundred or a thousand slaves, and
      went off unmolested. At sea, she encountered the Ferret, and was fired
      into repeatedly by that vessel, during the night, but succeeded in making
      her escape. The slaver was under Portuguese colors, and is said to have
      been formerly the American ship Crawford, now owned by Spaniards, and
      bearing a Spanish name.
    </p>
    <p>
      18.&mdash;Again came to an anchor at Monrovia.
    </p>
    <p>
      19.&mdash;Just returned from an excursion up the St. Paul's river. Three
      officers, in company with Dr. Lugenbeel, left Monrovia seasonably in the
      forenoon, in one of our boats, rowed&mdash;and well rowed too&mdash;by
      five Kroomen. Near the village, we passed from the Mesurado river through
      Stockton's creek, seven or eight miles, to the St. Paul's. Our first
      landing was at the public farm, where the manufacture of sugar was going
      on. Twelve Kroomen (whose power, in this country, is applied to as great a
      variety of purposes as those of steam and water in our own) were turning
      the mill by two long levers, walking round and round in one interminable
      circle, like the horse in an old-fashioned bark-mill. Three or four boys
      fed the mill with cane, which about a score of colonists were employed in
      cutting and bringing in by small armsfull, from a field in the immediate
      vicinity. The overseer, Mr. Moore, and a few other persons, were occupied
      in boiling the cane-juice. Mr. Moore informed me that sixteen Kroomen were
      employed on the premises, at three dollars per month, and twenty-five
      colonists at sixty-two and a half cents a day, besides their food. This
      year, they make about thirty barrels of sugar (which will cost at least
      twenty-five cents per pound), and two pipes of molasses. The cane, now in
      process of manufacture, is very small and unprofitable, all of the larger
      kind having been already ground. The sugar-house is a wretched building,
      with a thatched roof, and the sides roughly boarded like a cow-shed. There
      were four boilers in full bubble, and ten thousand bees in full buzz about
      the establishment; the insects bidding fair to hoard up more profit than
      the sugar-manufacturers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mr. Moore had accompanied the Niger expedition in the capacity of farmer,
      and resided nine or ten months on the model farm, without undergoing the
      prevalent sickness. While almost every white man perished, the colored
      colonists all survived. A large amount of property was left in the charge
      of Mr. Moore, and he returned with the expedition to England. As
      superintendent of the public farm, he now receives from the Colonization
      Society a salary of three hundred dollars.
    </p>
    <p>
      Leaving the farm, we soon entered the St. Paul's, a noble river, which
      comes rolling onward from the yet unexplored interior of the country.
      Following its course a mile or more towards the sea, we arrived at
      Maumee's Town, a village of thirty or forty huts, where a considerable
      slave-trade was carried on, until broken up by the colonists under
      Governor Ashman. Old Maumee still resides here, and cherishes a bitter
      hatred against the Liberians, and all Americans and Englishmen, as having
      caused the ruin of her profitable commerce. The old hag was not now at
      home, having obeyed the custom of the country by retiring to a more
      secluded spot, for the purpose of nursing a sick granddaughter. The
      persons who remained were quite uninteresting. The only noticeable group
      was composed of two women, one lying flat on her face, with her head in
      the other's lap. Her hair being combed out as straight as the tenacity of
      its curls would allow, her friend was arranging it in that fine braid with
      which it is customary to cover the head.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having procured a guide, we crossed the river, and, at the mouth of
      Logan's creek, exchanged our boat for a large canoe, in which we followed
      the windings of the deep and narrow inlet for nearly two miles. This
      brought us to a village of six huts. Without ceremony, we entered the
      dwelling of the old Queen (who was busied about her household affairs),
      and looked around for her grand-daughter, to see whom was the principal
      object of our excursion. On my former visit to Maumee's town, four or five
      months ago, this girl excited a great deal of admiration by her beauty and
      charming simplicity. She was then thirteen or fourteen years of age, a
      bright mulatto, with large and soft black eyes, and the most brilliantly
      white teeth in the world. Her figure, though small, is perfectly
      symmetrical. She is the darling of the old Queen, whose affections exhaust
      themselves upon her with all the passionate fire of her temperament&mdash;and
      the more unreservedly, because the girl's own mother is dead.
    </p>
    <p>
      We entered the hut, as I have said, without ceremony, and looked about us
      for the beautiful grand-daughter. But, on beholding the object of our
      search, a kind of remorse or dread came over us, such as often affects
      those who intrude upon the awfulness of slumber. The girl lay asleep in
      the adjoining apartment on a mat that was spread over the hard ground, and
      with no pillow beneath her cheek. One arm was by her side&mdash;the other
      above her head&mdash;and she slept so quietly, and drew such imperceptible
      breath, that I scarcely thought her alive. With some little difficulty she
      was roused, and awoke with a frightened cry&mdash;a strange and broken
      murmur&mdash;as if she were looking dimly out of her sleep, and knew not
      whether our figures were real, or only the phantasies of a dream. Her eyes
      were wild and glassy, and she seemed to be in pain. While awake, there was
      a nervous twitching about her mouth and in her fingers; but, being again
      extended on the mat, and left to herself, these symptoms of disquietude
      passed away; and she almost immediately sank again into the deep and heavy
      sleep, in which we found her. As her eyes gradually closed their lids, the
      sunbeams, struggling through the small crevices between the reeds of the
      hut, glimmered down about her head. Perhaps it was only the nervous motion
      of her fingers; but it seemed as if she were trying to catch the golden
      rays of the sun and make playthings of them&mdash;or else to draw them
      into her soul, and illuminate the slumber that looked so misty and dark to
      us.
    </p>
    <p>
      This poor, doomed girl had been suffering&mdash;no, not suffering, for,
      except when forcibly aroused, there appears to be no uneasiness&mdash;but
      she had been lingering two months in a disease peculiar to Africa. It is
      called the "sleepy disease," and is considered incurable. The persons
      attacked by it are those who take little exercise, and live principally on
      vegetables, particularly cassady and rice. Some ascribe it altogether to
      the cassady, which is supposed to be strongly narcotic. Not improbably,
      the climate has much influence, the disease being most prevalent in low
      and marshy situations. Irresistible drowsiness continually weighs down the
      patient, who can be kept awake only for the few moments needful to take a
      little food. When this lethargy has lasted three or four months, death
      comes&mdash;with a tread that the patient cannot hear, and makes the
      slumber but a little more sound.
    </p>
    <p>
      I found the aspect of Maumee's beautiful grand-daughter inconceivably
      affecting. It was strange to behold her so quietly involved in sleep&mdash;from
      which it might be supposed she would awake so full of youthful life&mdash;and
      yet to know that this was no refreshing slumber, but a spell in which she
      was fading away from the eyes that loved her. Whatever might chance, be it
      grief or joy, the effect would be the same. Whoever should shake her by
      the arm&mdash;whether the accents of a friend fell feebly on her ear, or
      those of strangers, like ourselves, the only response would be that
      troubled cry, as of a spirit that hovered on the confines of both worlds,
      and could have sympathy with neither. And yet, withal, it seemed so easy
      to cry to her&mdash;"Awake! Enjoy your life! Cast off this noon-tide
      slumber!" But only the peal of the last trumpet will summon her out of
      that mysterious sleep.
    </p>
    <p>
      On our return, we passed under the branches of the mangrove tree, and
      pulled some of the long fruit or seed. This singular seed is about fifteen
      or sixteen inches long, and in its greatest diameter not more than an
      inch. It is round, heavy, and pointed at both ends. When ripe, it detaches
      itself from a sort of acorn, to which the smaller end has been firmly
      joined, and falls with sufficient force to implant itself deeply in the
      mud. After a few days, it begins to shoot, and soon becomes a tall
      mangrove. This tree has many strings to its bow; for, while the seed is
      growing, as here described, the branches send down slender and cord-like
      shoots, perhaps thirty feet long, and less than an inch in thickness.
      These strike into the mud, and aid in giving sustenance to the tree. Thus
      the Mangrove presents the appearance of a large tree, supported by
      hundreds of lesser trunks, standing so thickly together as to be
      impassable for even small animals. Therein it differs from the tree
      described by Milton, to which it otherwise seems to bear an analogy:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "In the ground
      The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow
      About the mother-tree, a pillar'd shade,
      High overarched, and echoing walks between!"
</pre>
    <p>
      Returning to the ship, we found it lighted up, and the Theatre about to
      open. The scenery has been much improved, since the last performance, and
      the actors are more perfect in their parts.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIII.
    </h2>
    <p>
      The Theatre&mdash;Tribute to Governor Buchanan&mdash;Arrival at Settra
      Kroo&mdash;Jack Purser&mdash;The Mission-School&mdash;Cleanliness of the
      Natives&mdash;Uses of the Palm-Tree&mdash;Native Money&mdash;Mrs. Sawyer&mdash;Influence
      of her Character on the Natives&mdash;Characteristics of English
      Merchant-Captains&mdash;Trade of England with the African Coast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>March</i> 21.&mdash;The scenery of the theatre having been damaged by
      the rain, the other night, it is spread out to dry, and will be
      re-painted. Much interest is felt in the Drama, and the exertions of the
      performers are rewarded with full houses nightly. Some of the actors have
      evidently trodden other boards than these. Among two hundred men, many of
      whom have led wild and dissipated lives on shore, it is easy to suppose
      that enough are familiar with the theatre in front of the curtain, and a
      few behind it. Thus a tolerable company has been collected, needing only a
      few female recruits to render it perfect. The dresses and scenery were
      procured by general subscription, and are showy as well as appropriate;
      and many a manager might deem himself fortunate to engage the whole corps,
      with wardrobe and decorations included, for a summer campaign. On board
      ship, our buskined heroes are of more importance than Booth, Forrest, or
      Macready ashore, as affording amusement to a set of fellows who would have
      precious little of it, without this resource.
    </p>
    <p>
      22.&mdash;At 3 P.M. up anchor for the leeward, and stand off with a good
      breeze.
    </p>
    <p>
      23.&mdash;We have passed Bassa Cove, merely sending in some letters by a
      Kroo-canoe, which boarded us. A considerable settlement of colonists is
      established here. Many of their houses are visible along the shore, while
      two smaller villages, in the immediate vicinity, are concealed by the
      woods. The bar at this place has a bad reputation; several boats having
      been swamped in passing it. In 1836, ten persons, including a midshipman
      and purser's clerk, were drowned here, by the capsizing of a boat
      belonging to the frigate Potomac.
    </p>
    <p>
      At Bassa Cove, in 1842, died Thomas Buchanan, Governor of Liberia; a man
      who has identified his name with the existence of the colony, by his
      successful exertions to promote its strength and respectability. No other
      person had done so much to impress the natives with awe and respect for
      the colonists, and to give Liberia an independent position in the eyes of
      foreigners. A year before his death, it was my good fortune to be a
      shipmate of this great and excellent man; for great and excellent I do not
      hesitate to call him, although the remoteness of his sphere of action has
      left his name comparatively obscure. Like all who came in contact with
      him, I was deeply impressed with his pure, high, determined, and chivalric
      character. In a grove, near the village, he selected a spot for his
      burial; and there rest the remains of a finished gentleman, an
      accomplished scholar, a fearless soldier, a wise legislator, an ardent
      philanthropist, and a sincere Christian. So long as Liberia shall have a
      history, Governor Buchanan will be remembered in it. Honor to his ashes!
    </p>
    <p>
      24.&mdash;Sunday. No service to-day, in consequence of a heavy rain, which
      commenced at nine in the morning, and continued till one in the afternoon.
      In the evening, four or five miles from land, we were boarded by the mate
      of an English brig, at anchor off Grand Botton. He seemed a well-disposed,
      off-hand man, telling us, among other things, that he had run away from
      the U.S. schooner Enterprise, in the Pacific ocean, four years ago. This
      was rather a hazardous communication to make, on the deck of a national
      vessel; and it so happened that one of our lieutenants was in the
      Enterprise, at the time referred to, and remembered the circumstance and
      the man. However, as he had put confidence in us, we did not molest him.
    </p>
    <p>
      25.&mdash;Anchored at Settra Kroo.
    </p>
    <p>
      26.&mdash;Ashore, and dined upon roasted oysters, in a native hut. A
      large, shrewd Krooman, Jack Purser by name, seems to be the most important
      private individual here. He is the great tradesman of the place, and very
      accommodating in his mode of transacting business. We saw a specimen of
      his dealings with the natives. Being told that we wanted wood, he sent
      intelligence through the town; and, directly, many women and girls flocked
      to his house, each with a bundle of wood upon her head, which she
      deposited near the door. After twenty or thirty loads had been brought,
      Jack Purser came forth with a bundle of tobacco under his arm, and threw
      the price of each load upon the wood, one, two, or three leaves of
      tobacco, according to its size. There was no haggling, as is invariably
      the case when a white man is the customer, but all assented to the
      decision of the trademan. Jack Purser is a man of fortune, if the number
      of his wives, twenty-nine, be a criterion.
    </p>
    <p>
      I saw a native doctor making his "greegree," or charm, for rain. There
      were two large mortars, with leaves, bark, and roots, in each, and a long
      vine extending from one to the other. Into these mortars he poured water,
      until it ran over.
    </p>
    <p>
      27.&mdash;Dined on shore, at Mrs. Sawyer's. The repast consisted of bits
      of mutton in palm-butter, mutton roasted, rice, palm-cabbage, chicken, and
      papaw, with coffee, but no wine. There are thirty children in the
      Mission-school, mostly boys, who show considerable aptitude for learning.
      It is an obstacle in the way of educating girls, that many of them are
      betrothed before entering school, and, just when their progress begins to
      be satisfactory, their husbands claim them and take them away. Mr. Wilson
      adopted the plan of taking the pair of betrothed ones; and, after pursuing
      their studies in unison (doubtless including the conjugation of the verb,
      to love), they left the school together.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of the scholars, a little fellow called Robert Soutter, took a strange
      fancy to me, and followed everywhere at my heels, expressing a strong wish
      to accompany me to Big America. When we returned to the ship, he actually
      jumped into the boat, without saying a word, and came off, ready for the
      voyage. To be sure, there were few preparations requisite to rig him out.
      A handkerchief about his loins comprised all the earthly goods of Robert
      Soutter.
    </p>
    <p>
      The houses at Settra Kroo are often two stories high, with piazzas round
      the whole. The entrance to the upper story is by a ladder from without.
      Like other native houses, they are built with bamboo, and thatched. There
      being a war with other portions of the Kroo-people, the Beachmen have been
      obliged to plant cassada in the town itself, instead of the neighboring
      fields. Hence high fences are necessary to keep out the cattle; and these,
      being irregular, make it a kind of labyrinth for a stranger. The place is
      one of the best on the coast for watering ships, in the dry season. A
      large stream of sweet and clear water runs through a grove of palm-trees,
      to the sea. Hither come all the women of the village, in the old
      scriptural fashion, with the water-jar, holding three or four gallons, on
      the head. The consumption of water by the natives is very great. Whether
      it be part of their religious ritual, I know not&mdash;although
      cleanliness is in itself a religion&mdash;but the whole population wash
      themselves from head to foot, at least twice a day, in fresh water, when
      to be procured. These naked people, however, are as much averse as
      ourselves to being wet by the rain; and every man of consequence has his
      umbrella, to protect him both from sun and shower.
    </p>
    <p>
      Palm-trees are more abundant here, than in any place which I have visited
      on the coast. No tree, as has been said a thousand times, is so useful as
      the palm. It gives a good shade, and is pleasing as an ornamental tree.
      The palm-nut is very palatable and nutritious for food, and likewise
      affords oil, the kernel as well as the pulpy substance being available for
      that purpose. Palm-wine is the sap of the tree; and its top furnishes a
      most delicious dish, called palm-cabbage. The trunk supplies fire-wood,
      and timber for building fences. From the fibres of the wood is
      manufactured a strong cordage, and a kind of native cloth; and the leaves,
      besides being used for thatching houses, are converted into hats. If
      nature had given the inhabitants of Africa nothing else, this one gift of
      the palm-tree would have included food, drink, clothing, and habitation,
      and the gratuitous boon of beauty, into the bargain.
    </p>
    <p>
      I have procured some of the country-money. It is more curious than
      convenient. The "Manilly," worth a dollar and a half, would be a fearful
      currency to make large payments in, being composed of old brass kettles,
      melted up, and cast in a sand-mould. The weight is from two to four
      pounds; so that the circulation of this country may be said to rest upon a
      pretty solid metallic basis. The "Buyapart," valued at twenty-five cents,
      is a piece of cloth four inches square, covered thickly over with the
      small shells called cowries, sewed on. The other currency consists
      principally in such goods as have an established value. Brass kettles,
      cotton handkerchiefs, tobacco, guns, and kegs of powder, are legal tender.
      [Footnote: Specimens of the native money have been presented by the author
      to the National Institute at Washington.]
    </p>
    <p>
      29.&mdash;Mrs. Sawyer was on board yesterday. It is not without regret
      that we part with this interesting, energetic, and truly Christian woman.
      She is the only white person here, and lives alone among a tribe of
      savages, as safe, and perhaps more so, than in a civilized city. The
      occasional visits of vessels of war prevent any evil-minded person from
      molesting her; but she has little need of guardianship of this nature; for
      her own kind acts, and purity of character, will always ensure her the
      respect of the natives. Mrs. S. told us, that, before her husband died,
      the war-king of the Settra Kroos had quarrelled with him, and was his
      enemy at the time of his death. Not long afterwards, this war-king came to
      Mrs. Sawyer, and assured her of his protection and assistance to the
      utmost of his power, which is very great, as he commands all the
      fighting-men of the tribe. I know not that the power of feminine
      excellence has ever been more strikingly acknowledged, than by this act of
      an incensed and barbarous warrior. Somewhat of her influence, as well as
      that of the missionaries generally, is probably owing to her color. Many
      of the natives look with contempt on the colonists, and do not hesitate to
      tell them that they are merely liberated slaves. On the other hand, the
      colonists will never recognize the natives otherwise than as heathen.
      Amalgamation is scarcely more difficult between the white and colored
      races in America, than it is in Africa, between the "black-white" colonist
      and the unadulterated native.
    </p>
    <p>
      On our arrival here, we found an English brig, whose commander has been
      once on board of us. He has a large assortment of trade-goods of all
      sorts, and his vessel is fitted up with a view to comfort in living, as
      well as the convenience of trade.
    </p>
    <p>
      A native colored woman has her residence on board, as his washerwoman and
      stewardess, and likewise, if the captain be not belied, in a more intimate
      relation. To-day, also, came in another English brig, the master of which
      has a female companion, filling the same variety of offices as the former.
      Many of the English trading vessels retain such persons on board, during
      the whole time they are on the coast. The masters, so far as we have had
      opportunity to observe, have generally been hard-drinking unscrupulous
      men. Few of them hesitate to avow their readiness to furnish slavers with
      goods, equally with any other purchasers, if they can make their profit,
      and get their pay. There is great jealousy among the traders, and much
      underhand work to get the business from each other. They have native
      trade-men in their interest, all along the coast, watching their rivals,
      and preparing to take any advantage that may offer. Profound secrecy is
      observed as to their movements and intentions. The crews of some vessels
      are seldom allowed to visit the shore, lest they should give information
      about the affairs of the master.
    </p>
    <p>
      Not a few of the reports about American slavers spring from this jealousy
      of trade. The masters of English merchant-vessels, jealous of the
      Americans, and desirous to engross the trade to themselves, report them to
      the British cruisers as suspicious vessels. The cruiser, if he give too
      ready credence to the calumny, will probably overhaul the American, and
      perhaps break up his voyage; he being, nevertheless, as honest as any
      trader on the coast. But the ends of the Englishman are answered; he sells
      his cargo, and cares little about the diplomatic correspondence that may
      ensue, and the possible embroilment of the two nations.
    </p>
    <p>
      English vessels far outnumber all others on the coast. Dr. Madden, the
      commissioner to examine the condition of the British colonial settlements,
      reports the total imports into England from the West Coast of Africa, in
      1836, at £800,000. In 1840, the exports of British products to Africa
      amounted to £492,128, in the transportation of which, 72,000 tons of
      shipping were employed. The government and people of England are giving
      great attention to this coast, as an important theatre of trade.
    </p>
    <p>
      A committee of the House of Commons, in 1842, made extensive and minute
      inquiries into the subject, and published a great mass of interesting
      information. They recommended, that the Crown should resume the
      jurisdiction of several forts, on the Gold Coast, which have been given up
      to a committee of merchants; and that there be new settlements
      established, and block-houses erected at various points.
    </p>
    <p>
      The English have lost the gum-trade, by the French subsidizing the King of
      the Trazars, who holds the key to the gum-country; and the mahogany-trade
      has been destroyed by that of Honduras, the wood from which is of a better
      quality. The experiment on the part of the English, of carrying African
      rice to compete with that of America, has likewise failed.
    </p>
    <p>
      The subject of American Trade with the west of Africa is so important,
      that it may be well to devote a separate chapter to some account of its
      nature, and the methods of carrying it on.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIV.
    </h2>
    <p>
      American Trade&mdash;Mode of Advertising, and of making Sales&mdash;Standard
      of Commercial Integrity&mdash;Dealings with Slave-Traders&mdash;Trade with
      the Natives&mdash;King's "Dash"&mdash;Native Commission-Merchants&mdash;The
      Gold Trade-The Ivory Trade&mdash;The "Round Trade"&mdash;Respectability of
      American Merchant-Captains&mdash;Trade with the American Squadron.
    </p>
    <p>
      More vessels come to the coast of Africa from Salem than from any other
      port in the United States; although New York, Boston, and Providence, all
      have their regular traders. Some of these trade chiefly to Gambia or
      Sierra Leone; others to Gallinas, Monrovia and down the coast, touching at
      different points. Others, again, go to the Gaboon river, and the islands
      of Princes and St. Thomas; and some stretch still farther south, to
      Benguela, and beyond. Most American vessels bring provisions, such as
      flour, ship-bread, beef, pork, and hams, which are bought chiefly by the
      European or American colonists. The natives, however, are yearly acquiring
      a taste for them. The market being often overstocked, this part of the
      trade is precarious. Other exports are furniture, boots and shoes, wooden
      clocks, and all articles of American manufacture, or such as are used
      among civilized men. All the vessels bring New England rum, leaf-tobacco,
      powder, guns, large brass pans, and cotton cloth. On these points, a great
      deal of correct information has been given by Dr. Hall, and may be found
      in some of the numbers of the African Repository.
    </p>
    <p>
      The mode of trading has some peculiarities. On arriving at a civilized
      settlement, the captain sends his "list" ashore to some resident merchant.
      This list contains a schedule of his cargo, with the prices of each
      article annexed, and the kind of pay required. Some take only cash. Most
      vessels, however, take the productions of the country at a stipulated
      price; for instance, camwood at, say, sixty dollars per ton, palm-oil, at
      twenty-five to thirty-three cents per gallon, ivory, ground or peanuts,
      gold dust, and gum. At the Cape de Verd islands, salt, goat-skins, and
      hides, are the chief commodities received in exchange; at Gambia, hides;
      at Monrovia, Cape Palmas, and other settlements in Liberia, camwood and
      palm-oil are the great staples. There is likewise some ivory, but not in
      large quantity. On the Gold Coast, the trade is in gold-dust and palm-oil;
      at the Gaboon, in ivory and gold-dust,&mdash;and at Benguela, in gum.
    </p>
    <p>
      The "list" being put up conspicuously in the merchant's store (such being
      the method of advertising in Liberia, where the newspapers are not made
      use of, for this purpose), the traders, purchasers, and idlers, come to
      see what is for sale. The store becomes, for the time being, the public
      Exchange of the settlement, where people assemble, not merely with
      commercial views, but to hear the intelligence from abroad, and to diffuse
      it thence throughout the country. In due time, the captain comes on shore
      with his samples, and individual purchasers bargain for what they want.
      The captain receives payment, whether in cash or commodities, and weighs
      the camwood, or measures the palm-oil, at the merchant's store. If credit
      be given, the merchant is responsible, and receives a perquisite of five
      per cent on all sales. The captain takes up his residence on shore, and
      sends for goods from his vessel, as they are wanted; while the mate and
      crew remain on board, to despatch and receive the cargo. Every vessel has
      in its employ several Kroomen, by whom all the boat-service is performed.
    </p>
    <p>
      When the demand for goods appears to have ceased, the captain either takes
      his unsold cargo away, or leaves a portion to be disposed of in his
      absence, and sets sail for another settlement. Here the same process is
      gone through with, and so on, until the cargo is sold. The captain then
      turns back, touching at the several places where he has left goods, to
      receive the proceeds, and thence home to America, for a new cargo. Regular
      traders have numerous orders to fill up, from persons resident on the
      coast; taking care, of course, to allow themselves a good profit for their
      trouble and freight. The trade with the colonists is easy and sufficiently
      plain; the only difficulty being the somewhat essential one of obtaining
      payment. Colonial traders, in abundance, are eager to buy on credit; but,
      possessing little or no capital, they often fail to satisfy their
      obligations at the period assigned&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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,&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is still another mode of trading, resorted to by many masters of
      vessels. They entrust quantities of goods&mdash;varying in value from a
      trifling sum up to a thousand dollars, or even more&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;ornaments that have perhaps been worn by sable monarchs, or
      their sultanas, in the interior of the country.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XV.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Jack Purser's wife&mdash;Fever on Board&mdash;Arrival at Cape Palmas&mdash;Strange
      Figure and Equipage of a Missionary&mdash;King George of Grand Bassam&mdash;Intercourse
      with the Natives&mdash;Tahon&mdash;Grand Drewin&mdash;St. Andrew's&mdash;Picaninny
      Lahoo&mdash;Natives attacked by the French&mdash;Visit of King Peter&mdash;Sketches
      of Scenery and People at Cape Labon.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>March</i> 30.&mdash;Got under way, at daylight, and stood down the
      coast.
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      31.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>April</i> 1.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      2.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      4.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      5.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      The weather has been cooler for two days, and the fever-patients are fast
      improving.
    </p>
    <p>
      6.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      7.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      9.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      11.&mdash;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!&mdash;on
      the plea that his measures of hostility prevented the natives from
      engaging in trade.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      12.&mdash;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;&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVI.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Visit from two English Trading-Captains&mdash;The Invisible King of
      Jack-a-Jack&mdash;Human Sacrifices&mdash;French Fortresses at Grand
      Bassam, at Assinee, and other points&mdash;Objections to the Locality of
      Liberia&mdash;Encroachments on the Limits of that Colony&mdash;Arrival at
      Axim&mdash;Sketches of that Settlement&mdash;Dix Cove&mdash;Civilized
      Natives&mdash;An Alligator.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>April</i> 14.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      15.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      16.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      17.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sailed at 9 A.M. for Axim.
    </p>
    <p>
      18.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      19.&mdash;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&mdash;unless, indeed, they should blow him
      into the air.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;particularly those who reside in the
      villages beneath the fortress&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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."
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      22.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is great difficulty in procuring any supplies here, except wood and
      water, and those at a high rate&mdash;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&mdash;and
      we shall have an idea of the relative position of the Governor of Axim and
      the natives. Moreover, he is the general arbitrator, <i>ex officio</i>,
      and expects that all awards shall be paid in cash, and that the successful
      party spend the amount at his shop.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      24.&mdash;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&mdash;say, rather, on
      the heart&mdash;of a creature so delicate, impassioned, and imaginative.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      25.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      28.&mdash;Having repaired the American schooner, and supplied her with one
      of our spare topmasts, we are ready to sail to-day.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVII.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Dutch Settlement at El Mina&mdash;Appearance of the Town&mdash;Cape Coast
      Castle&mdash;Burial-place of L. E. L.&mdash;An English Dinner&mdash;Festivity
      on Ship-board&mdash;British, Dutch, and Danish Accra&mdash;Native Wives of
      Europeans&mdash;A Royal Princess&mdash;An Armadillo&mdash;Sail for St.
      Thomas&mdash;Aspect of the Island.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>April</i> 29.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      El Mina&mdash;the Mine&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>May</i> 2.&mdash;Sailed for Cape Coast Castle with the evening breeze.
    </p>
    <p>
      3.&mdash;At Cape Coast Castle.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
       Hic jacet sepultum
     Omne quod mortale fuit
   LETITIAE ELISABETHAE McLEAN,
     Quam, egregiâ ornatam indole,
       Musis unicè amatam;
   Omniumque amores secum trahentem,
       In ipso aetatis flore,
     Mors immatura rapuit,
   Die Octobris XV., A.D. MDCCCXXXVIII,
              Ætat 36.

</pre>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
      Quod spectas viator marmor,
     Vanum heu doloris monumentum,
       Conjux moereng erexit.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;,
      an acquaintance at Mahon, and a messmate of my friend C&mdash;&mdash;. 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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      4.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      6.&mdash;We sailed yesterday from Cape Coast Castle, and anchored to-day
      at Accra, abreast of the British and Dutch forts.
    </p>
    <p>
      7.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      8.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      9.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      Accra is the land of plenty in Africa. Beef, mutton, turkeys and chickens
      abound; and its supply of European necessaries and luxuries is unequalled.
    </p>
    <p>
      10.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      11.&mdash;Calm and sunny. Oh, how sunny!&mdash;and, alas, how calm!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      19.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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."
    </p>
    <p>
      20.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVIII.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Excursion to St. Anne de Chaves&mdash;Mode of drying Coffee&mdash;Black
      Priests&mdash;Madame Domingo's Hotel&mdash;Catering for the Mess&mdash;Man
      swallowed by a Shark&mdash;Letters from Home&mdash;Fashionable Equipage&mdash;Arrival
      at the Gaboon&mdash;King Glass and Louis Philippe&mdash;Mr. Griswold&mdash;Mr.
      and Mrs. Wilson&mdash;Character of the Gaboon People&mdash;Symptoms of
      Illness.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>May</i> 22.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      23.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;a circumstance that affords the
      voyager an agreeable variety, after seeing so much nakedness&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      24.&mdash;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&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      25.&mdash;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&mdash;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!&mdash;how much pleasanter to receive them! I acknowledged
      the receipt of these musty epistles, by the same vessel that conveyed them
      to me.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      27.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      28.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      29.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      31.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>June</i> 1.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      2.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      3.&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      4.&mdash;A continuance of favorable winds. I am not well to-day. Slight
      headache, and heaviness of feeling&mdash;no great matter&mdash;but these
      are ominous symptoms, on the coast of Africa.
    </p>
    <p>
      5.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      6.&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIX.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Recovery from Fever&mdash;Projected Independence of Liberia&mdash;Remarks
      on Climate and Health&mdash;Peril from Breakers&mdash;African Arts&mdash;Departure
      for the Cape de Verds&mdash;Man Overboard.
    </p>
    <p>
      June 18.&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      We are now at Monrovia, having made the passage from the river Gaboon,
      hitherward, in seven days and fourteen hours, from anchorage to anchorage&mdash;an
      unprecedented run! The Macedonian has been here, and is gone.
    </p>
    <p>
      19.&mdash;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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      20.&mdash;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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      21.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      27.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      28.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      29.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>July</i> 2.&mdash;Again at anchor.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;and a sermon as readily as the
      journal&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the
      Soldiers, who do nothing but fight&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      8.&mdash;At 11 A.M., got under way for the Cape de Verds.
    </p>
    <p>
      10.&mdash;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&mdash;his only hope&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      21.&mdash;Anchored at Porto Praya.
    </p>
    <p>
      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."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XX
    </h2>
    <p>
      Glimpses of the bottom of the Sea&mdash;The Gar-Fish&mdash;The Booby and
      the Mullet&mdash;Improvement of Liberia&mdash;Its Prospects&mdash;Higher
      social position of its Inhabitants&mdash;Intercourse between the White and
      Colored Races&mdash;A Night on Shore&mdash;Farewell to Liberia.&mdash;Reminiscence
      of Robinson Crusoe.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>September</i> 1.&mdash;At Porto Grande.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the grouper, the red snapper, the noble baracouta,
      the mullet, and many others, unknown to northern seas&mdash;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:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   "A thousand fearful wrecks;
    A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon;
    Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
    Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels."
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;rested
      himself for a moment&mdash;rose again, and re-alighted&mdash;and in this
      manner, with many such intervals of repose, made his way to the shore.
    </p>
    <p>
      25.&mdash;At 1 P.M., sailed for the Coast, in company with the Truxton.
    </p>
    <p>
      26.&mdash;Anchored off Cape Mesurado.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;as restoring to him his long-lost
      birthright of equality&mdash;Liberia may indeed be called the black man's
      paradise.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      10.&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXI.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Sierra Leone&mdash;Sources of its Population&mdash;Appearance of the Town
      and surrounding Country&mdash;Religious Ceremonies of the Mandingoes&mdash;Treatment
      of liberated Slaves&mdash;Police of Sierra Leone&mdash;Agencies for
      Emigration to the West Indies&mdash;Colored Refugees from the United
      States&mdash;Unhealthiness of Sierra Leone&mdash;Dr. Fergusson&mdash;Splendid
      Church&mdash;Melancholy Fate of a Queen's Chaplain&mdash;Currency&mdash;Probable
      Ruin of the Colony.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>October</i> 15.&mdash;We arrived off the point of Sierra Leone, last
      night, and were piloted up to the town, this morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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
      support.
    </p>
    <p>
      As may be supposed, so heterogeneous and wild a population as that of
      Sierra Leone requires the supervision of a strict and energetic police.
      Accordingly, the peace is preserved, and crimes prevented, by a whole army
      of constables, who, in a cheap uniform of blue cotton, with a white badge
      on the arm, and a short club as their baton of office, patrol the streets,
      day and night. Their number cannot be less than two or three hundred.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is a desire, in some quarters, to destroy the colony of Sierra
      Leone; and one of the means for accomplishing this end is, of procuring
      the emigration of the colored colonists to the West Indies. For this
      purpose there are three different agencies. One has over its door:&mdash;"British
      Guiana Emigration Office;" another is for Trinidad; and a third for
      Jamaica.
    </p>
    <p>
      Great promises are made to persons proposing to emigrate; such as a free
      passage to the West Indies, wages of from seventy-five cents to a dollar
      per day, and permission to return when they choose. Very few, however, of
      those who have been long resident here, can be induced to avail themselves
      of these offers, small as are the earnings of labor at Sierra Leone. They
      believe that the stipulations are not observed; that emigrants, on their
      arrival in the West Indies, will be called upon to pay their passages, and
      that it will not be at their option to return. In short, they suspect
      emigration to be only a more plausible name for the slave-trade. The
      Kroomen are the class most sought for as emigrants, although negroes of
      any tribe are greedily received. Even the Africans just re-captured are
      sent off, as the authorities are pleased to term it, "voluntarily." The
      last emigration, consisting of somewhat less than two hundred and fifty
      persons, included seventy-six slaves, almost that instant landed from a
      prize. A respectable merchant assured me, that these men were not
      permitted to communicate with their countrymen, but were hurried off to
      the vessel, without knowing whither they were bound. The acting governor,
      Dr. Fergusson, denied the truth of this, although he admitted that the
      seventy-six liberated slaves did emigrate to the West Indies, very soon
      after landing from the prize.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is to be remarked, that the white inhabitants of Sierra Leone, as well
      as the colored people, entertain very unfavorable notions of this scheme
      of procuring laborers for the West Indies. The best defence of it,
      perhaps, is, that neither blacks nor whites can flourish in this
      settlement, and that a transportation from its poor soil and sickly
      climate, to any other region, may probably be for the better. But,
      undeniably, the British government is less scrupulous as to the methods of
      carrying out its philanthropic projects, than most other nations in their
      schemes of self-aggrandizement.
    </p>
    <p>
      In Freetown, which is the residence of all the Europeans, are to be found
      what remains of the emigrants from Nova Scotia, and their descendants. The
      whole number transported hither at several periods, was about fifteen
      hundred. Not more than seventy or eighty of these people, or their
      progeny, now survive upon the spot. Our pilot is one of the number. He
      affirms, that his countrymen were promised fifty acres of land, each, in
      Sierra Leone, on condition of relinquishing the land already in their
      possession in Nova Scotia. With this understanding they emigrated to
      Africa; but, in more than half a century which has since elapsed, the
      government has never found it convenient to fulfil its obligations. Only
      two or three acres have been assigned to each individual. Meantime, the
      body of emigrants has dwindled away, until the standard six feet of earth
      by two, the natural inheritance of every human being, has sufficed for
      almost all of them, as well as fifty, or five thousand acres could have
      done. These emigrants were the colonial slaves, who were taken or ran away
      from the United States, during the Revolutionary war. Considered
      physically and statistically, their movement was anything but an
      advantageous one. It would be matter of curious speculation to inquire
      into the relative proportions now alive, of slaves who remained upon our
      southern soil, and of these freed men, together with the amount of their
      posterity. Not, of course, that it has been in any degree a fair
      experiment as to the result of emancipating and colonizing slaves. The
      trial of that experiment has been left to America; and it has been
      commenced in a manner that might induce England to mistrust her own
      beneficence, when she contrasts Liberia with Sierra Leone.
    </p>
    <p>
      This settlement has been known as "The White Man's Grave;" and it is
      certainly a beautiful spot for a grave&mdash;as lovely as one of those
      ornamental cemeteries, now so fashionable, and on which so much of our
      taste is lavished; as if only the dead had leisure for the enjoyment of
      shrubbery and sculpture. Sierra Leone, however, is by no means the fatal
      spot that it once was. Formerly, a governor was expected to die every
      year, although a few held the reins of power, and enjoyed the pomp and
      dignity of office, twice or even thrice that period. Brave and excellent
      men have accepted the station, on this fearful tenure. Among them was
      Colonel Denham, the adventurous traveller in Africa. Very great mortality
      likewise prevailed among the merchants, military and civil officers, and
      soldiers. This was partly owing to the recklessness of their mode of life.
      The rich were in the habit of giving champagne-breakfasts at noon, and
      heavy and luxurious suppers at night. The continual neighborhood and near
      prospect of death made them gaily desperate; so that they grew familiar
      with him, and regarded him almost as a boon companion. And, besides, in a
      sickly climate, each individual is confident of his own personal immunity
      against the disease which, he is ready to allow, may be fatal to those
      around him. I have noticed this absurd hallucination in others, and been
      conscious of it in myself. In battle it is the same&mdash;the bullet is
      expected to strike any and every breast, except one's own&mdash;and here,
      perhaps, is the great secret of courage.
    </p>
    <p>
      Latterly, the Europeans at Sierra Leone practise a more temperate life.
      Another circumstance that has conduced to render the settlement less
      insalubrious, is the clearing of lands in the vicinity, and conversion of
      the rank jungle into cultivated fields. The good effect of this change
      will be readily appreciated by those who have noticed the improved health
      of our Western settlers, as the forest falls before the axe; or who have
      seen the difference between the inhabitants of old and new lands, in any
      country.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is said, by the old residents here, that they do not find it very
      sickly, except once in seven years, when an epidemic rages, and carries
      off many settlers. This has happened regularly since 1823, until the
      present year, when, in the proper order of things, the angel of death
      should have re-appeared. Several persons provided for their safety by
      quitting the place; and others made their arrangement to retreat, on the
      first symptoms of danger. But the year, thus far, seems to have been
      distinguished by no peculiar mortality.
    </p>
    <p>
      Life, in a climate like this, must generally be much more brief than in
      temperate regions, even if it do not yield at once to the violence of
      disease. Yet there are circumstances of Europeans attaining a good and
      green old age at Sierra Leone. Mr. Hornell, a Scotch merchant of great
      wealth and probity&mdash;which latter virtue is rare enough, in this
      quarter, to deserve special mention&mdash;has resided here fifteen years,
      and twenty-seven years in the West Indies. He lives regularly, but
      generously imbibing ale, and brandy-and-water, in moderate quantities,
      every day of his life.
    </p>
    <p>
      The governor, Colonel George Macdonald, is now absent in England. In the
      interim, the duties of the office are performed by Dr. Fergusson, a
      mulatto in color, but born in Scotland, and married to a white lady, who
      now resides in that country. Dr. Fergusson was regularly educated at
      Edinburgh, and is a medical officer of the British army; a man of noble
      and commanding figure, handsome and intellectual countenance, and finished
      manners. He is affable, as well as dignified, in his deportment, and
      fluent and interesting in conversation. To him, and five or six other men
      of color, whom I have met on the coast, I should refer, as proofs that
      individuals of the African race may, with due advantages, be cultivated
      and refined so as to compare with the best specimens of white gentlemen.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is a large church here, said to have cost seventy thousand pounds
      sterling; notwithstanding which vast expenditure, divine service has
      ceased to be performed. The last clergyman, a young man universally
      beloved and respected, lost his life, two or three years ago. He had gone
      with a party of friends, five in all, on board a homeward-bound vessel,
      which lay at a short distance from the shore. On their return the boat
      capsized and sunk. The five Kroomen saved themselves, by swimming, until
      picked up by a canoe; the five whites were lost; and the young clergyman
      among them. The latter swam well, and was almost within reach of a canoe,
      when he threw up his hands, exclaiming, "God have mercy on me!"&mdash;and
      disappeared. A shark had undoubtedly seized him, at the moment when he
      believed himself safe. This gentleman held the office of Queen's Chaplain;
      and since his melancholy fate, no new appointment of that nature has been
      made. If credit be due to the statements reciprocally made by the
      colonists, in reference to one another, there is great need of teachers to
      inculcate the principles of religion, morality, and brotherly love;
      although the spiritual instruction heretofore bestowed (which has cost
      large sums to the pious in England) has been almost entirely thrown away.
      There are some missionaries here, who have directed their labors
      principally to the business of education.
    </p>
    <p>
      The tide runs so strongly, into and out of the river, that such accidents
      as that which befell the five Europeans, above-mentioned, are of no
      unfrequent occurrence. When boats or canoes are upset, it is impossible
      for the passengers to swim against the current. We had an instance of the
      danger, while at anchor there. The captain was seated in his cabin, with
      the stern windows open, when he heard a native in a canoe, under the
      stern, say "Man drown!" Being asked what he meant, he reiterated the
      words, pointing towards the sea. Just then, a cry was indistinctly heard.
      Two of our boats were instantly despatched, and picked up three Kroomen,
      whose canoe had sunk, leaving them to the mercy of the current, which was
      rapidly drifting them towards the ocean. The Humane Society of Sierra
      Leone bestows a reward for every person rescued from drowning. In this
      instance, of course, no claim was made upon their funds.
    </p>
    <p>
      The currency here differs from that of all the other settlements on the
      coast, except those belonging to Great Britain. The Spanish and South
      American doubloons are valued at only sixty-four shillings sterling each,
      or fifteen dollars and thirty-six cents; while they are worth elsewhere,
      sixteen dollars. Spanish and South American dollars pass at about one per
      cent. discount. The English sovereign is reckoned at four dollars eighty
      cents; and the French five-franc piece at ninety-two cents. The gold and
      silver coin of the United States is not current at Sierra Leone. Bills on
      London, at thirty days sight, are worth from par to five per cent.
      premium, and may actually be sold in small sums (say, from £100 to £2000)
      at fair rates.
    </p>
    <p>
      Pilotage is five shillings sterling per foot; and the port-charges are so
      exorbitant as to prevent the entrance of many vessels, which would
      otherwise stop to try the market. Of late years, the trade of Sierra Leone
      has suffered great diminution. Money having been lost on all the timber
      exported, that business is at present nearly abandoned. Another cause of
      decay is the withdrawal of the British squadron, which has now its
      principal rendezvous at Ascension. More than all, as contributing to the
      decline of the colony, the home-government has discontinued the greater
      part of the assistance formerly rendered. The governor, colonial
      secretary, and chief justice, are believed to be all the civil officers
      who now draw their salaries from England. The military force consists of a
      captain, five or six subalterns, and probably two or three hundred
      soldiers. In consequence of the failure of support from the
      mother-country, the colony has imposed higher duties upon certain
      articles, in order to try the experiment of raising a revenue from their
      own resources. The most sagacious and best informed residents predict that
      the result aimed at will not follow, and that three or four years will
      suffice to render the colony of Sierra Leone bankrupt.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXII.
    </h2>
    <p>
      Failure of the American Squadron to capture Slave-Vessels&mdash;Causes of
      that Failure&mdash;High character of the Commodore and Commander&mdash;Similar
      ill-success of the French Squadron&mdash;Success of the English, and why&mdash;Results
      effected by the American Squadron.
    </p>
    <p>
      It will not have escaped the reader's notice, that the foregoing journal
      of our cruise records not the capture of a single slave-vessel, either by
      our own ship or any other belonging to the American squadron. Such is the
      fact, and such it must inevitably be, so long as the circumstances, which
      prevented our efficiency in that respect, shall continue to exist. The
      doctrines relative to the right of search, held by our Government and
      cordially sanctioned by the people, declare that the cruisers of no
      foreign nation have a right to search, visit, or in any way detain an
      American vessel on the high seas. Denying the privilege to others, we must
      of course allow the same inviolability to a foreign flag, as we assert for
      that of our own country. Hence, our national ships can detain or examine
      none but American vessels, or those which they find sailing under the
      American flag. But no slave-vessel would display this flag. The laws of
      the United States declare the slave-trade, if exercised by any of its
      citizens, to be piracy, and punishable with death; the laws of Spain,
      Portugal and Brazil, are believed to be different, or, at least, if they
      threaten the same penalty, are certain never to inflict it. Consequently,
      all slaves will be careful to sail under the flag of one of these latter
      nations, and thus avoid the danger of losing life as well as property, in
      the event of capture.
    </p>
    <p>
      Undoubtedly, many American vessels have been sold to foreigners, by
      unprincipled citizens of our country, with a belief or full understanding
      that they were to be employed in this nefarious trade. In some instances,
      such vessels have been sold, with stipulations in the contract, binding
      the seller to deliver them at slave-stations on the coast of Africa; they
      have been sent out to those stations under American colors, and commanded
      by American captains; and there, being transferred to new masters, they
      have immediately taken on board their cargoes of human flesh. But how is
      an American cruiser to take hold of a vessel so circumstanced? On her
      departure from the United States, and until the transfer takes place, she
      is provided with regular papers, and probably sails for her destined port
      with a cargo which may be used in lawful, as well as unlawful trade. After
      the transfer, she appears under foreign colors, is furnished with foreign
      papers, commanded by a foreign master, and manned by a foreign crew. It is
      not to be presumed that this change of nationality will be effected in
      presence of one of our men-of-war. How then can such a vessel be taken or
      molested, so long as the present treaties and laws continue in force?
    </p>
    <p>
      It is well that the public should be prepared for an inefficiency which
      can hardly fail to continue; and, in justice to the American squadron, it
      should be imputed to the true cause, and not to any lack of energy or
      good-will on the part of the officers. Whatever be their zeal (and
      hitherto they have been active and indefatigable), it is almost certain
      that their efforts will not be crowned with success, in the capture of a
      single prize. The Commodore, under whose general direction we have acted,
      is a gentleman of the highest professional character, persevering,
      sagacious, and determined, and well known as such, both in and out of the
      service. The commanders of the different vessels were likewise men of
      elevated character, zealous in performing their duty, and honorably
      ambitious of distinction. If the incentive of gain be reckoned stronger
      than considerations of duty and honor, it was not wanting; for, besides
      half the value of the vessel, each liberated slave would have been worth
      twenty-five dollars to the captors&mdash;a handsome amount of prize-money,
      in a cargo of six or eight hundred.
    </p>
    <p>
      The French, like ourselves, having no reciprocal treaties with Spain,
      Portugal, and Brazil, are equally unsuccessful in making prizes. Eleven of
      their vessels of war were stationed on the coast, during the period of our
      cruise, but effected not a single capture. England, by virtue of her
      treaties with the three nations above mentioned, empowers her cruisers to
      take slave-vessels under either of their flags. Hence the success of the
      English commanders; a success which is sometimes tauntingly held up, in
      contrast with what is most unjustly termed the sluggishness of our own
      squadron.
    </p>
    <p>
      Still, the presence of American national vessels, on the coast of Africa,
      has not been unattended with results that may partly compensate for the
      sacrifice of human life and health, which the climate renders inevitable.
      The trade of the United States has been protected. The natives have been
      taught, that the humblest American merchant-vessel sails under the shadow
      of a flag, which guarantees security to everything that it covers. The
      colonies of Liberia have been made more respectable in the eyes of the
      barbarian nations that surround them. This latter advantage it is
      creditable to our country to bestow; for the United States demand from
      Liberia no commercial exemptions, nor anything in return for the
      countenance which she lends to that growing commonwealth. Never before,
      perhaps, did a colony exist, so entirely free from vexatious interference
      on the part of the mother-country, and so carefully fostered by the
      benevolence that planted it. Slight as is the present political connection
      between the United States and Liberia, the latest advices inform us that
      it is in contemplation to sever the silken thread. The Colonization
      Society, I understand, is discussing the expediency of relinquishing its
      further control over the government, and allowing the infant colony to
      take a place among independent nations. Should this event come to pass,
      and Liberia either find the protection of another maritime power, or prove
      adequate to protect herself, there will be one reason the less for sending
      a squadron of gallant ships to chase shadows in a deadly climate.
    </p>
    <h3>
      THE END.
    </h3>
    <div style="height: 6em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
</html>