Those were busy times at the settlement, where the crops and everything
else were neglected so that all hands might work at the block-house, or
fort, it was determined to build, so as to have a place to flee to in
case of attack, and the fight going against us.
Wood was plentiful enough, and the _chip-chop_ of the axes was heard all
day long, willing hands toiling hard, so that at the end of a week a
strong wooden breastwork was contrived; and this, as the time went by,
was gradually improved, sheds and huts being run up within for shelter
from the dews and rain, and for store-places in case we were besieged.
But the weeks went by, and the Spaniards made no sign, and as far as we
could tell were not likely to. Still the General did not relax his
efforts; outposts and guards did duty; a well was dug inside the fort,
and stores were gathered in, but no enemies came, and their visit began
to seem like a bit of history.
My father and Morgan had walked over with me to the fort every morning,
and there gentlemen toiled beside the ordinary labourers and the slaves;
but no fresh alarm came, and at last we were back at the house
regularly, and time was devoted to making up for the past neglect,
Morgan bemoaning the state of the garden most piteously.
I suppose I must have been about fifteen years old then, but cannot be
sure. All I know is that the whole business stands out vividly in my
mind, as if it had taken place yesterday. In fact I can sit down, close
my eyes, and recall nearly the whole of my boyish life on the river,
with the scenes coloured by memory till they seem to grow. At such
times it seems to me that I can actually breathe in the sweet lemony
odour of the great laurel-leaved flowers borne on what, there, were
often great trees dotted with blossoms which looked like gigantic
creamy-white tulips, one of which great magnolias flourished at the end
of our house.
On the day of which I am speaking, Morgan Johns, our serving-man and
general hand, for there was nothing he was not ready to do, came and
told my father that there was a schooner in the river, adding something
which my father shook his head over and groaned. This, of course, made
me open my ears and take an interest in the matter at once.
"Well, sir, look you," said Morgan, "I'll do as much as I can, but you
keep on fencing in more and more land, and planting more and more
trees."
"Yes, I do, Morgan," said my father, apologetically; "but see how
different it is to cold, mountainous North Wales."
"North Wales is a very coot country, sir," said Morgan, severely. "No
man should look down on the place of his birth."
"Nobody does, Morgan. I often long to see Snowdon, and the great ridge
of blue mountains growing less and less till they sink into the sea."
"Ah," said Morgan, enthusiastically, and speaking more broadly, "it's a
fery coot country is Wales. Where are your mountains here?"
"Ah, where are they, Morgan? The place is flat enough, but see how rich
and fat the soil is."
"Yes, it's fery good," said Morgan, growing more English.
"And see how things grow."
"Yes; that's the worst of them, sir; they grow while you're looking at
them; and how can one man fight against the weeds, which grow so fast
they lift your coat off the ground?"
"In time, Morgan, in time," said my father. "Yes, sir, in time. Ah,
well, I'll work till I die, and I can't do any more."
"No, Morgan," said my father, quietly, "you cannot do any more."
"The other gentlemen who came out don't mind doing it, and their little
estates are in better order than ours."
"No, Morgan," said my father, decisively, "I will not have that. Nobody
had such fruit as we did last year."
"Well, master," said our old servant, with his hard, dry face
brightening up into a smile, "I think we can beat them all round; but if
you are going on enclosing fresh clearings from the forest, I must have
more help." My father shook his head and Morgan went on, "The other
gentlemen are going aboard, one after another; why don't you go too,
sir?"
"If I went, it would be to try to put a stop to it, Morgan, and cry
shame on my neighbours for what they are doing."
"Ah, well, master, I've done," said Morgan. "I'll work till I drop, and
I can do no more."
My father turned to the old-fashioned desk he had brought from home, and
went on writing a letter, while, after giving him a look full of
vexation, our man gave his straw hat a flop against his side, and went
out.
I was not long in following and overtaking him by the rough fence which
enclosed our garden.
"Morgan! Morgan!" I cried.
"Well, Master George, boy, what is it?"
"What did you want father to do?"
"Go and ask him."
"No, I shan't; I shall ask you. Did you want him to buy something to
help in the garden?"
Morgan looked at me quietly and nodded.
"What was it?--a new spade?"
"Nay, boy; but people to use spades and hoes--'specially the last."
"But you can't buy people."
"Can't you, boy?"
"Only slaves. Oh, I say, Morgan! I know; you wanted father to buy some
slaves."
"Ay, boy, that's it. Every one else here's doing it, so why shouldn't
we?"
"I don't know," I said, thoughtfully. "I know this," I cried; "that
schooner that came into the river has got slaves on board."
"That's right, Master George, boy. Cargo of blacks from the Guinea
coast, and our neighbours are buying 'em so fast that there won't be one
left if we want any."
"We don't want any," I said, indignantly.
"No, Master George, boy, so your father said; and I'm going to ask him
to graft me."
"To graft you?"
"Ay, my lad, with a row of extra arms all down each side, like that
picture of the Injin idol in your book."
"What nonsense, Morgan!"
"Oh, I don't know, Master George. One pair of hands can't do the work
here. Wants a dozen pair, seems to me. Well, I've done my dooty. I
told master there was a chance to get some slaves."
"And of course my father would not buy slaves," I said, indignantly.
"No, sir; and the house and plantations I've took such pride in will all
go to ruin now."
"Morgan!"
We both started and looked round to see my father standing in the rough
porch of rugged oak-wood.
The man went up to him.
"You have made me uneasy about all this," he said, thoughtfully. "I
will go on board the schooner, and see who is there among my neighbours.
I should like to interfere if I could."
"Better not, sir. May make bad blood after."
"Morgan!" cried my father, so sternly that the man drew himself up as if
he were on parade, and his old officer were in uniform. "Do not forget
yourself, sir. Go and unloose the boat. You can row me on board."
Morgan saluted and went away, while my father began to walk up and down
the sandy path among his flowers. I waited a bit, and then went
hesitatingly up to him. For a few minutes he did not notice me, and I
saw that his lips were pressed close together, and his brow wrinkled.
"Ah, George," he said at last, and he laid his hand upon my shoulder.
"Going out in the boat, father?"
"Yes, my boy."
"Take me too."
He looked at me quickly, and shook his head.
"But I should like to go, father."
"My boy," he said, "I am going on board a ship lying in the river--a
vessel used by cruel-hearted men for trafficking in their
fellow-creatures."
"Yes, I know, father," I said; "a slaver."
He frowned a little, but went on.
"I am going to see if I can do any good among my friends and neighbours.
It would be no proper sight for you."
I felt disappointed, but when my father spoke in that firm, quiet way, I
knew that he meant every word he said, and I remained silent, but
followed him as he took his hat and stick and walked slowly down to the
little landing-place, where Morgan was already seated in the boat with
the painter held in one hand, passed just round the trunk of the nearest
tree, and ready to slip as soon as my father stepped on board.
A slight motion of an oar sent the stern of the boat close in to the
bank, my father stepped in, the painter was slipped, and the boat
yielded to the quick current, and began to glide away.
But just then my father raised his head, saw me standing there
disconsolate, and said aloud--
"Would you very much like to come, George?"
"Oh, yes, father," I shouted; and he made a sign. Morgan pulled his
left-hand oar, and I forced my way through the dense undergrowth to
reach the spot where the boat was being pulled in, fifty yards down
stream.
It was hard work, and I had not gone far through the dense leafage, and
over the soft, spongy, river-soaked bank, before there was a rush and a
scuffle, followed by a splash, and though I saw nothing, I knew that it
was a small alligator, taking refuge in the water after a night's
wandering ashore.
I had heard these sounds so often, and was so accustomed to the dread
shown by the reptiles, that I did not hesitate to go on, and soon after
reached the place where Morgan was holding on by the overhanging bushes,
drawing the boat so close in that I easily stepped down on to one of the
thwarts, giving my father a bright, eager look, but he did not see it;
so taking one of the oars, I sat down behind our man, and rowed hard
till our boat glided out of the mouth of the stream which ran through my
father's property, and reached the turbid waters of the great river.
As we passed out of the mouth of our stream, and round the bushes on the
point, there lay the schooner a couple of hundred yards away, anchored
in the middle, with her long raking masts tapering in the sunshine, and
the great spars glistening and bright as if freshly greased.
She was low in the water, and as I looked over my shoulder, I caught
sight of a boat just pushing off to go down stream, and noted that she
was rowed by some of our neighbours, and had black men on board.
I saw my father give a quick look in the direction of the boat, and
frown, but he did not speak, and we rowed on.
As we neared the schooner I more than once became conscious of a
peculiar offensive odour, that I thought must be something coming up
with the tide; but I was too much interested in the slaver to give more
than a passing thought to such a matter, and my eagerness and excitement
increased as we drew near. For I heard loud voices, and saw our nearest
neighbour close to the side, talking to a hard-looking, deeply-bronzed
man. Then one of the sailors threw us a rope; we made fast, my father
stepped on board, and I followed.
"Better take the other two I've got, colonel, and clear me out," said
the bronzed man.
"No, I think not," said Colonel Preston, who had exchanged a short nod
with my father, and he turned to where a dejected-looking group of
negroes, both men and women, were standing on the deck close to the open
hold.
"Better alter your mind; make your black hay while the sun shines. I
may never come up your river again. I'll throw in the other two dirt
cheap."
I felt the colour come into my cheeks, and then felt how pitiful it was
for the miserable, drooping, nearly nude creatures to be sold like that;
but my attention was taken up directly by my father's looks and the
colonel's words as he said, sternly--
"No; six are all I want, and it seems to me that half of these will die
before I have had them long ashore."
"No; they'll soon pick up. We've had a rough crossing," said the slaver
captain, "and the quarters are a bit close. We ran short of water too,
and a tidy lot died, and made the others bad. You give 'em time, and
that lot 'll turn out as cheap as anything you ever bought. You should
have seen them when they first came aboard--lively and spry as could be.
Have the other two. Hi! Below there!" he continued, as he went to the
open hold, and boy-like I stepped forward, full of curiosity, to look
down too.
But I started back in horror, as a hot puff of the revolting odour I had
previously noticed came up from below.
"Ah, not very sweet, youngster," said the slaver captain, with a laugh.
"Going to brimstone it out well as soon as I've made a clearance. Got
two more, haven't you?"
"Ay," came up in a growl.
"Man and woman, eh?"
"Boy and a man," came up.
"Send 'em on deck."
There was a pause, during which I heard from below--"Now then! Up with
you!" and the sound of blows, which made me draw a long breath, and I
was going back once more to the hold when I felt my father's hand upon
my shoulder, and saw as I looked up that he was deadly pale.
"Hoist 'em up there!" shouted the captain, and a rope rove through a
block was lowered down.
"How can you join in this cursed business, Preston?" said my father in a
low tone to our neighbour.
"I was going to ask you that," said the colonel, coldly.
"Me? Ask me?"
"Yes, sir; you have come on board to buy slaves, I suppose, with the
rest of us?"
"I deny it," said my father, flashing out, as he drew himself up. "I
came on board, too late it seems, to try and prevail upon my brother
emigrants--English gentlemen of birth and position--to discountenance
this hateful traffic in the bodies of our fellow-creatures."
"We must have men to work if our colony is to succeed, Captain Bruton."
"Oh!" ejaculated my father, and then in a low voice, as his eyes rested
on the group of poor black wretches huddled together, I heard him say,
"It is monstrous!"
At that moment a couple of sailors began to haul at the rope run through
the block; it tightened, and with a cheery "Yo-ho!" they ran up what
seemed to be the dead body of a big negro, whose head and arms hung down
inert as he was hoisted on high; the spar to which the block was
fastened swung round, the rope slackened, and the poor wretch plumped
down on the deck, to lie motionless all of a heap.
"Not in very good fettle," said the slave captain, curtly; "but he'll
come round."
The rope was cast loose from the negro's chest, lowered down again, and
I gazed from the poor wretch lying half or quite dead on the deck, to my
father, and back again, noting that he was very pale, biting his lower
lip, and frowning in a way that I knew of old meant a storm.
"Now then, up with him!" shouted the captain.
"Ay, ay, but look out, or he'll be overboard. He's lively as an eel,"
came from below.
"Right!" said the captain; and he took up a small line and held it ready
in both hands.
The rope tightened; there was a cheery "Yo-ho!" and up came a black,
impish-looking boy of about my own age, kicking, struggling, and tearing
at the rope round his chest.
But it was all in vain; he was swung round, held suspended with his feet
just clear of the deck, and his wrists were caught in a loop of the line
bound together, his ankles were served the same, and the lad was dropped
on the deck to lie writhing like some wild animal, showing his teeth,
and watching us all in turn with his rolling eyes.
"Come," said the slave captain, laughingly turning to Colonel Preston;
"he's lively enough to make up for the other. Better have 'em. I'll
throw them in for next to nothing."
"No," said our neighbour, coldly. "That man is dying, and the boy would
be of no use to me."
"The man is not dying," said the slave captain roughly, "but he soon
will be if you don't have him. As for this shaver, he's about as near
being an imp as we can find. Keep away, my lad, or he may bite you."
This was to me, as I approached the boy, who showed his teeth at me like
a vicious dog.
"Going to have 'em, colonel?"
"No; once more, no," said the colonel, sternly. "I am only waiting for
my boat."
"All right, sir, I don't go begging. What do you say?" he continued,
turning to my father. "Will you buy those two?"
"I?" cried my father, angrily; "buy my fellow-creatures for slaves?"
"Oh, no, of course not," said the slave captain. And then to himself,
but I heard him, "Too good a man, I suppose.--Sorry you won't have 'em,
colonel.--Heave 'em down."
The men on deck advanced to the insensible negro, and were in the act of
stooping to pass the rope once more about his chest, when my father, who
could bear the scene no longer, said quietly--
"Do you not see that man is dying?"
"Yes, sir. Altered your mind? You can have the two a bargain."
"Bah!" exclaimed my father, fiercely. "Man, have you no heart, no
feeling?"
"Not that I know of, sir. This trade would take it out of any one."
"But the poor creature's lips are dried up. He wants water."
"He'll have plenty to-night, sir," said the slave captain, with a laugh.
"Down with him, my lads."
"Ay, ay, sir," said the men; the rope was passed round the negro, and
the men seized the end to haul.
"I can't bear it," I heard my father say in a whisper; and then
aloud--"Stop!"
"Eh? What for?"
"I will buy the man," said my father.
"And the boy?"
"N--"
"Yes, yes," I shouted, excitedly.
My father turned upon me with an angry look, but he seemed to read mine,
and his face changed.
"Yes," he said, quietly.
"Right, and a good riddance," said the captain, laughing, as he held out
his hand for the money my father began to count out. "I don't mind
telling you now, sir; if you hadn't bought him, he'd have been dead
enough to-night; but you get him ashore and take care of him, and he'll
come round--he will indeed; I'm not tricking you. It's wonderful what a
deal these niggers will bear. There, I like to deal square," he added,
as he thrust the money in his pocket. "Smithers, shove a chain on that
boy's legs, and another on the man's."
"Ay, ay, sir."
"No, no, for Heaven's sake, no," cried my father.
"Oh, just as you like," said the slave captain. "I was going to give
you the shackles; only I warn you, if you don't have them on, that man
as soon as you revive him will make for the river and drown himself, and
the boy will be off into the woods."
"Do what is best," said my father, and the shackles were put on.
"Shall we hoist them into the boat for you?"
"If you please," said my father, coldly.
"Heave ahead, my lads," cried the slave captain; "and below there, get
those brimstone-pans going at once."
"Ay, ay," came from below, and I saw a lighted lanthorn passed down as
my father's two slaves were hoisted over the side, and lowered into the
boat, where Morgan stood ready with a grim smile upon his lip.
"You'll get yours home first, Bruton," said Colonel Preston, coming to
my father's side; "my boat's all behind. I say, neighbour, don't preach
at me any more. You're as bad as any of us, and I'm glad you've come to
your senses at last."
My father gave him a peculiar look, and then glanced at the group of
slaves destined for the Preston property, where they stood huddled
together quite apathetic and hopeless-looking.
The next minute we were at the gangway, and as I passed down, I saw
three rough-looking men coming up out of the hold, and a thin bluish
vapour began to curl up before they smothered it down by rapidly
covering the opening and drawing over it a well-tarred canvas.
Very soon after I was in the boat, stooping to take an oar, and gazing
at the stern, where the man lay as if dead, and the boy, whose bonds had
been secured to the thwart, lay glaring at me viciously, and had taken
hold of the edge of the boat in his white teeth; and directly after, as
we rowed away from the floating horror upon whose deck we had so lately
stood, there came the regular beat of oars, and I saw Colonel Preston's
boat, which had evidently been ashore with one load, coming back for the
other poor wretches and their owner.
"Why, hang me!" said a voice, evidently not intended for our ears, "if
that puritanical Captain Bruton hasn't been buying niggers too."
The calm water bears sound to a great distance.
I saw my father wince a little, and he turned to me bending down, so
that his lips were pretty close to my ear.
"Yes," he said, "Captain Bruton has been buying niggers too."
"No, no, father," I said, looking up; "one of them is mine."
"And what are you going to do with him?" he said, slowly, as his eyes
seemed to search mine.
"Do with him, father?" I said, promptly. "Let him go."