ground, and the face of the roads was as glass. A stranger gentleman had
been thrown from his horse in the neighbourhood of the widow's cottage.
His life had been endangered by the fall, and he was conveyed beneath
her lowly roof, where he remained for weeks, unable to be removed. He
was about fifty or sixty years of age, and his dress and appearance
indicated the military officer. Menie was his nurse; and if her beauty
and kindness did not inspire the soul of the veteran with love, they
moved it with sympathy. He wished to make her a return, and, at length,
resolved that that return should be an offer of his hand. He knew he was
in his "sere and yellow leaf," and his face was marked with wounds; but
for those wounds he had a pension; he had his half-pay as Major, and
three thousand pounds in the funds. He would show his gratitude by
tendering his hand and fortune to the village maiden. He made known his
proposal to the old woman--maternal feeling suggested her first reply:
"She was to be my Willie's wife," said she, ruefully, and wiped away a
tear; "she was to be my daughter--and she _is_ my daughter; I canna part
with my Menie." But prudence at length prevailed, and she added: "But
why should she be buried for me? No, sir, I winna wrang her; ye are owre
kind--yet she deserves it a', an' I will advise her as though she had
been my ain bairn." But Menie refused to listen to them.
When the sun began to grow warm in the heavens, a chair was brought to
the door for the invalid, and Menie and her mother would sit spinning by
his side, while he would recount his "battles, sieges, fortunes." And
thus, in an evening in May, as the sun was descending on the hills, ran
his story: "Fifty of us were made prisoners. We were chained man to man,
and cast into a dark, narrow, and damp dungeon. Our only food was a
scanty handful of rice, and a cup of water once in twenty-four hours.
Death, in mercy, thinned our numbers. A worse than plague raged amongst
us--our dead comrades lay amongst our feet. The living lay chained to a
corpse. All died but myself and my companion to whom I was fettered. He
cheered me in fever and sickness. He took the water from his parched
lips and held it to mine. And, maiden, I have been interested in you
for his sake; for in his sleep he would start, and mention the name of
Menie!"
"Oh, sir!" interrupted Menie and the old woman at once, "what--what was
his name?"
"If the world were mine, I would give it to know," replied the Major,
and continued: "He succeeded in breaking our fetters. We were left
unguarded. 'Let us fly,' said he; but I was unable to follow him. He
took me upon his shoulders. It was midnight. He bore me to the woods.
For five days he carried me along, or supported me on his arm, till we
were within sight of the British lines. There a party of native horsemen
came upon us. My deliverer, with no weapon but a branch which he had
torn from a tree, defended himself like a lion in its desert. But he
fell wounded, and was taken prisoner. A company of our troops came to
our assistance; I was rescued, but my noble deliverer was borne again
into the interior; and three years have passed, and I have heard no more
of him."
"But it is five years since my Willie fell," sighed Menie, Morrison. Yet
she brooded on the word--_Menie_.
A wayfaring man was seen approaching the cottage. As he drew near, the
eyes of the Major glistened--his lips moved--he threw down his crutch.
He started, unaided, to his feet--"Gracious Heaven!--it is himself!" he
exclaimed; "my companion!--my deliverer!"
The stranger rushed forward with open arms--"Menie!--mother!" he cried,
and speech failed him. It was Willie Forbes! Menie was on his bosom--his
mother's arms were round his neck--the old Major grasped his hand.
Reader, need I tell you more. Willie Forbes had fallen wounded, as was
thought, mortally; but he had recovered. He had been made a prisoner. He
had returned. Menie gave him her hand. The Major procured his
discharge, and made him his heir. He took a farm; and on that farm the
Major dwelt with them, and "fought his battles o'er again," to the
children of Willie and Menie Forbes.
THE SLAVE.
Some of the inhabitants of Edinburgh, who, some years since, were in the
habit of enjoying the pure air and delightful prospects which the head
of Burntsfield Links and the Burghmuirhead afford, may remember the
person of whose eventful life I am about to narrate a few passages. He
was a square-built, thick-set old man, short in stature, with a
weather-beaten countenance; which, though harsh in its expression at the
first glance, exhibited, in conversation, all the traits of a mind
influenced by humane sentiments and benevolent feelings. He was often to
be seen standing near the wells, at the south border of the Links, where
the females bleach their linen; gazing steadfastly upon them, his rough
features in continued change, as if some inward feelings completely
engrossed his whole faculties, and indulging in frequent mutterings, as
if the occupations of those whose motions he was observing had roused
some latent thoughts that had been laid up in his memory in former
years. When I saw him first, he was busy looking at a few sprightly
young females, whose loud laugh enlivened the scene of the
bleaching-ground, as they were splashing the water on each other in
merriment. His features had something fearful in them. Anger flashed
from his dark blue eyes, his shaggy eyebrows which covered them were
knit, his teeth were compressed; and such unaccountable passion I had
never seen so fearfully expressed. I almost shrunk from him; yet
curiosity detained me, and I saw his features gradually relax, and a
languid smile succeed his fearful frown. The change was as unaccountable
as the contrast was striking, and I could scarcely believe that I still
looked upon the same individual. The circumstance prejudiced me against
him; for I attributed his fixed gaze upon the females to a cause very
different from the true one; though why he should frown upon them I was
still at a greater loss to understand. I saw him every day on the
golfing ground; I wished for no intercourse with him, though there was a
strange anxiety in my mind to know more of him; and, often as I followed
the game we were busily engaged in, my eyes would involuntarily turn to
where he stood or walked; and so habituated did I become to his presence
that, when he was absent, I felt as if all was not as it used to be on
the golfing ground. No one of whom I made inquiries knew aught of him;
all I could learn was, that he was known by the name of the Captain, and
had a black servant, who, with an aged female, constituted his whole
household at Morningside, where he resided in one of those small
self-contained villas in that retreat.
One morning towards the end of September, I was up rather earlier than
usual, as I had engaged to accompany some friends upon a small party of
pleasure; and, taking a turn, I had sauntered down past Merchiston
Castle, to see how the reapers were getting on with their labour in the
harvest-fields. There I met the identical Captain, the subject of my
curiosity, coming up the road, accompanied by a female, who leant upon
his right arm as if she walked with difficulty; while in his left he
carried a young child, whose head lay upon his broad shoulder, pillowed
as if asleep, or depressed with sickness; and his black servant, who
bore a considerable burden, walked by their side. The female was
evidently poor, but neat and clean; and her features were pale as death,
with an expression of sickness and languor which roused my sympathy with
my approbation of the Captain's benevolence--for I was satisfied he was
engaged in an act of charity.
"Billy," I heard him say, "you had as well go on before, and tell Mary
to make all ready for our arrival. Poor thing!--she is a sailor's wife,
and one of us."
"Yes, Massa, I do so--gladly do so," replied the negro. And away he
moved from them, past me, with the bundle upon his arm; the smile that
lit up his black face giving it, in my estimation, a look more
interesting than I thought an African's could possess. The female looked
gratefully at her supporter; and, as the Captain gazed first at her,
then at her babe, I could see his clear blue eye glisten with tears--my
own heart swelled, my bad impressions left me in a moment, and I could
have put him in my bosom; I bowed to him with true reverence, as if I
asked pardon for the injustice I had done him, and he looked at me as if
he was gratified, and gently nodded his head--all the return he could
make, so fully occupied was he with his benevolent labours.
"My good sir," said I, "since you seem to be engaged in a noble act, may
I request to be allowed to lend my aid?"
"Certainly, with all my heart," replied he; "for I fear this good woman
gets on but poorly with all the assistance I can give her."
"God bless you both," said the woman, as I gave her my arm, "for your
kindness! Oh, my baby!--my poor baby, I fear, has got his death in the
cold of this miserable night. My husband! little did you think that your
Peggy was so near, and exposed to the bare heavens, sick and houseless,
or you would have come to her help."
I requested her not to exert herself; and, as we proceeded, I learned
that the Captain and Billy, having been out early, had found the female
and child in the middle of a group of reapers, who had discovered her at
the entrance of the field, chilled, and almost deprived of sense, with
the infant wrapped up in her bosom; and they had in part restored her to
some faint degree of consciousness when the Captain arrived, and took
the whole charge upon himself and his servant. The negro had used all
the expedition in his power, and met us before we reached the house.
"Massa," said he, "you give me the piccaninny--I carry it, if you
please."
The child opened its languid eyes as he laid hold of it; and, looking in
the negro's face, screamed with fright, leaned towards its mother, (who
soothed it with her voice, in vain,) and nestled once more upon the
Captain's shoulder, clasping its little arms friendly round his neck.
"Let him remain, Billy," said he; "I think the young one loves me."
In a few minutes we reached the house, where Mary received the female
and child with all a mother's care, while the Captain and I looked on
with feelings of satisfaction. I bade him adieu, promising to call in
the evening. The day on which I had anticipated to be so happy, hung
rather heavy upon my hands than otherwise; and I longed much for an
interview with the Captain, expecting, when an intimacy was established,
to be much amused with his conversation, as, from his appearance, he was
no common character, and he had already roused my curiosity, by some
broken hints of his adventures. I waited upon him, and found the female
much restored, and the negro nursing the child, who appeared as much
pleased with his nurse as he had been alarmed in the morning. After the
first compliments were exchanged, I learned that the woman was the wife
of a sailor, and on her way to Leith, to join him. She had journeyed on
foot from Lanark, where she had been living with her mother during the
time he had been on a voyage to the South Seas. Having got accounts of
his arrival in London, and his being to be in Leith, where he had got a
berth in one of the Leith and London smacks, and where he wished her to
come and reside, she had set out, but come off her road to visit a
relation she had, who resided in Colinton, and with whom she had
intended to stay during the night; but, unfortunately, she found that
her relation had been dead for some weeks. The shock and grief had a
great effect upon her; and, having no other acquaintance in the place,
she had resolved to proceed to Edinburgh, as she calculated there was
sufficient time for her to do so before it would be dark, and the
weather was delightful. Oppressed with her bundle, and sunk by her
grief, she had plodded on, in hopes of soon meeting the husband of her
love; yet still her progress was slow, and the sun had set for some
time, and the shades of evening had begun to thicken, ere she reached
Craig-Lockhart; but the spires of the distant city began to rise in
view, and she hoped soon to see the end of her toil, when, from
over-exertion, or some other cause, she became sick and faint--her limbs
bent beneath her--and with difficulty she made her way to a gate, to be
off the roadside, in hopes that the attacks would soon go off, and she
would resume her way. She fainted; and, when she came to her senses
again, her babe was crying piteously upon her bosom. It was completely
dark; and, after stilling the child, she in vain attempted to rise and
resume her journey. It was far beyond her strength; and fear, bordering
on despair, took possession of her mind. It was very chill; and,
covering her infant in the best manner she could from the cold, she,
almost without hope, commended herself to God, and, weeping, resigned
herself calmly to her fate. She never expected to survive until the
morning. The tedious hours rolled on, she knew not how--her child slept
soundly, and her heart was in close communion with that merciful God who
sustained her in all this misery--until the voices of the reapers
sounded upon her ears like heavenly music, and hope once more warmed her
breast; yet she was, at their first coming up, so weak that she could
scarcely speak--a symptom that surprised her, for she was unconscious of
her extreme exhaustion, and her heart was hale from the manner in which
she had employed her thoughts during the cheerless hours.
This is almost the words of the poor creature, who now was able to move
about, and expressed a wish to proceed to Leith--a step that would not
be heard of by the Captain, who said he would not allow her to depart
until he had ascertained that her husband had arrived; and the name of
the smack in which he sailed having been ascertained, we looked into the
newspapers for the arrivals and departures at Leith, and found that the
_Czar_ had not arrived. The grateful Margaret agreed to remain, to the
delight of the negro, who appeared as fond of the child as if it had
been his own. At the Captain's request, I agreed, with pleasure, to stay
supper.
"How I do love black Billy!" said my host; "this is a new trait of him;
he is bold as a lion, faithful as a dog, and yet mild as a lamb."
"Sir," said I, "you appear to have a great regard for your black
servant; I believe, from what I see, he is worthy of it."
"He is not my servant," said he--"he is my friend; yet it would grieve
him to see any one do any little office for me, besides himself. He is
as humble as he is good; and if you knew his history and mine, you would
not be surprised at what I now say of him."
"Nothing that I know of would give me more pleasure," replied I, "than
to know a little more of him and his friend, would he be so kind as
oblige me."
"With all my heart," replied the old man, "if you have the patience to
hear me."
Supper was at this time brought in by Billy, and soon despatched, when
we drew in our chairs, and, seated by the fireside, I felt as if I had
been on intimate terms with him for many years.
"My name is William Robertson," he began; "I am a native of Edinburgh,
born within the sound of St. Giles' bells. My parents were once in a
respectable line of business; but they died when I was very young,
leaving me to the care of my paternal uncle--for I was an only child.
This uncle, who has long since rendered his account at that
judgment-seat where we must all appear, took possession of all my
father's property, and became tutor to me. I was too young, at the time,
to know my loss, but soon felt it in all its bitterness; for he used me
very ill, so much so that I trembled at his voice. I was quite
neglected, and allowed to ramble about as much as I pleased, amongst the
other idle boys of the neighbourhood. I could read and write a little at
the death of my parents, which was all the instruction I received. I was
now nearly thirteen; and, as my uncle's abuse became quite intolerable
to me, I left the house, boy as I was, and entered on board a trader at
Leith, which was on the point of sailing for America. The captain, who
was one of the best of men, waited upon my uncle before we sailed; and,
I believe, as much by threat of compulsion by law, as any entreaty he
used, got from him a few necessaries for me--for, besides his other ill
usage, he kept me miserably clad. The five years I sailed in the
_Bounty_ of Leith, were the happiest I had ever spent--for my kind
master had me taught navigation, and everything necessary for a seamen
to know; but, in the middle of this prosperity, when I was to have been
made his mate next voyage, the American war broke out, and I was
impressed as soon as our vessel cast anchor in Leith Roads. I was only
grieved to be parted from my kind captain, who was as vexed to leave
me--but in vain he applied to have me set at liberty; and, to be short,
I served out the period of the war, and was in a good deal of service.
The seventy-four I was in being; on the West India station, I was not
paid off for some months after the peace. On arriving at Portsmouth, I
followed the usual course of sailors; and, having gone to amuse myself
with some of my shipmates, I got robbed of all I had in the world; and,
when I came to my senses, I found I had not even a sixpence in my
pocket, a shoe on my feet, or a hat on my head. I was thus in a strange
place, quite destitute; but I soon got a loan of some money from one of
my comrades, who had been more prudent or more fortunate than myself,
and set off for London to proceed to Leith. I learned there, from a
Leith trader, that the _Bounty_ had been taken by the French, and that
my old captain had left going to sea; so I gave up all thoughts of
returning to Leith. Berths were at this time not to be obtained--the
seamen were to be seen wandering upon the quays of every port, begging
for employment in vain; and thus, young and vigorous as I was, I was
reduced to great want. In this dilemma, I thought of writing to my
uncle--being advised by one of my acquaintances, who knew much more of
the world than I did, to do so, and threaten to call him to account for
his intromissions with my father's effects, if he did not send me, by
return of post, a few pounds for my immediate wants. I waited most
anxiously for an answer, which I duly received; but it brought me no
supply, and I learned that he had been for a long time bankrupt, and was
at this time, if possible, in greater want than myself. In a day or two
after, I got a berth in a Bristol trader, whose master was an old
messmate of mine, and who having told me I had a better chance in
Bristol than in London, I cheerfully made the run; but I found berths as
difficult to be obtained there as in London; and, in this desperate
state of my affairs, I was persuaded to go a voyage to the coast of
Africa, in a slaving ship--a species of employment that no seaman will
engage in if he can do better. The men are in general not well used; and
the danger is great as regards life, both from fatigue and the climate.
You must not judge of me by this voyage; for the slave trade was then as
legitimate as any other branch of commerce, and much the same, for
popularity or unpopularity, as it is in America at the present time."
"I don't think harshly of you on this account," replied I; "I only beg
you to be as circumstantial as you can regarding this inhuman branch of
traffic, now so happily destroyed by the unwearied efforts of Christian
benevolence."
"To proceed, the vessel lay at King's Road, waiting my arrival on board,
to overhaul her stores, to see what might be awanting. Her name was the
_Queen Charlotte_; she mounted twenty-two guns; her captain was called
by the seamen the Gallipot Captain, as he had formerly been doctor on
board the same vessel, and, her captain having died in her last voyage,
he was now the commander, in consequence of having brought her home. I
went on board in the captain's boat, which was waiting for me, and to my
great joy, found an old messmate who had sailed in the Exeter man-of-war
with me. He was now second-mate of the _Queen Charlotte_, and I was
engaged as boatswain. We were soon ready for sea; and unmoored about
eight o'clock, the wind chopping about to the east. The captain and
pilot came on board through the night, and we set sail for the African
coast on the morning of the 1st of May, 1788. We passed the island of
Madeira on the 8th of the month; and having got beyond the Canary and
Cape de Verd islands, all became bustle on board, making preparations
for the coast; the carpenters fitting up barricades to keep the male and
female slaves apart, and the cooper getting ready all the tubs and
vessels for their use. Though in anticipation, I may say that the males
are never allowed to see the females until they are put on shore. The
children are with the women, in general; but are at times allowed to run
at large all over the ship; and merry little creatures they are, and
soon pick up a number of English words. The first land we made was Cape
Palmas.
"Still steering along the coast, keeping a good offing, until we passed
Cape Three Points and Cape Coast Castle, we crossed the Bight of Benin,
and made the land again, which is so low that you can scarce distinguish
it from the water--the tall palms resembling a large fleet of ships. The
weather was so thick and hazy that we lay at the Bar five days before
we could venture in--the tide running so strong, at full moon, that it
is with difficulty the boats can pull against it. Upon our getting up,
we found about thirty sail of large ships, some of them fitted up for
one thousand slaves, all (save a few completely slaved) waiting for
cargoes, several with none on board, and others half-full. There was one
sad memento of the unhealthiness of this vile place which made a deep
impression on me, thoughtless as I was. There was a beautiful French
ship lying at anchor off the town, without one single person alive on
board that had come out in her from Europe--captain, doctor, and all had
died; and the agent had written to the owners to send out a new crew,
either to complete the voyage or carry her back to France. This was a
sad sight for us; and we all heartily wished ourselves safe out of a
place where never a day passed without two, three, or more European
sailors being rowed on shore, from the ships, to be buried. I shall not
wound your feelings by all the details of this disgusting traffic. We
longed much for King Peppel, the sovereign of the place, to come on
board, to break trade, as it is called; for no native merchant dare
either to buy or sell until he has got his 'dash' or present, and made
his selection of the goods that are on board, at the same time that he
fixes the prices himself. At times his Majesty is very backward, and a
long time elapses before he comes on board--for he is as cunning and
political as any European statesman that ever penned a protocol; but the
captain, who had been often here before, knew well the customs of the
place, and how to entice him quickly to his wishes. In the morning,
after we were all prepared, he sent his boat to the town, under the
command of the mate, who carried a private 'dash' for his Majesty,
consisting of a blue uniform, all covered with gold lace, so stiff that
it would scarcely fold. This had the desired effect; for the answer was,
that he would visit the _Queen Charlotte_ next day--and this was the
ninth since our arrival.
"In the morning all was again bustle, preparing for a sumptuous dinner
for the king, in which there behoved not to be forgot a huge
plum-pudding, and a roast pig, two dishes upon which depend the good or
ill humour of his Majesty; and the larger the fragments are, the better
is his humour, as all that is not consumed at the time is taken ashore
with him. It was necessary that everything of value should be carefully
put out of sight; for the moment it attracts the attention of the king,
he will immediately ask for it, and never cease to importune until he
has obtained it. There is no use in refusing, if you mean to trade; and
all you can do, is to make the best terms for yourself you can, on the
principle of present for present.