When I got back to Bangalang, my first movement was to take possession
of the quarters assigned me by the Mongo, and to make myself as
comfortable as possible in a land whose chief requirements are shade
and shelter. My house, built of cane plastered with mud, consisted of
two earthen-floored rooms and a broad verandah. The thatched roof was
rather leaky, while my furniture comprised two arm-chests covered with
mats, a deal table, a bamboo settle, a tin-pan with palm-oil for a
lamp, and a German looking-glass mounted in a paper frame. I augmented
these comforts by the addition of a trunk, mattress, hammock and pair
of blankets; yet, after all this embellishment, I confess my household
was rather a sorry affair.
It is time I should make the reader acquainted with the individual who
was the presiding genius of the scene, and, in some degree, a type of
his peculiar class in Africa.
Mr. Ormond was the son of an opulent slave-trader from Liverpool, and
owed his birth to the daughter of a native chief on the Rio Pongo. His
father seems to have been rather proud of his mulatto stripling, and
dispatched him to England to be educated. But Master John had made
little progress in belles-lettres, when news of the trader's death was
brought to the British agent, who refused the youth further supplies
of money. The poor boy soon became an outcast in a land which had not
yet become fashionably addicted to philanthropy; and, after drifting
about awhile in England, he shipped on board a merchantman. The
press-gang soon got possession of the likely mulatto for the service
of his Britannic Majesty. Sometimes he played the part of dandy waiter
in the cabin; sometimes he swung a hammock with the hands in the
forecastle. Thus, five years slipped by, during which the wanderer
visited most of the West Indian and Mediterranean stations.
At length the prolonged cruise was terminated, and Ormond paid off. He
immediately determined to employ his hoarded cash in a voyage to
Africa, where he might claim his father's property. The project was
executed; his mother was still found alive; and, fortunately for the
manly youth, she recognized him at once as her first-born.
The reader will recollect that these things occurred on the west coast
of Africa in the early part of the present century, and that the
tenure of property, and the interests of foreign traders, were
controlled entirely by such _customary_ laws as prevailed on the spot.
Accordingly, a "grand palaver" was appointed, and all Mr. Ormond's
brothers, sisters, uncles, and cousins,--many of whom were in
possession of his father's slaves or their descendants,--were summoned
to attend. The "talk" took plate at the appointed time. The African
mother stood forth stanchly to assert the identity and rights of her
first-born, and, in the end, all of the Liverpool trader's property,
in houses, lands, and negroes, that could be ascertained, was handed
over, according to coast-law, to the returned heir.
When the mulatto youth was thus suddenly elevated into comfort, if not
opulence, in his own country, he resolved to augment his wealth by
pursuing his father's business. But the whole country was then
desolated by a civil war, occasioned, as most of them are, by family
disputes, which it was necessary to terminate before trade could be
comfortably established.
To this task Ormond steadfastly devoted his first year. His efforts
were seconded by the opportune death of one of the warring chiefs. A
tame opponent,--a brother of Ormond's mother,--was quickly brought to
terms by a trifling present; so that the sailor boy soon concentrated
the family influence, and declared himself "MONGO," or, Chief of the
River.
Bangalang had long been a noted factory among the English traders.
When war was over, Ormond selected this post as his permanent
residence, while he sent runners to Sierra Leone and Goree with notice
that he would shortly be prepared with ample cargoes. Trade, which had
been so long interrupted by hostilities, poured from the interior.
Vessels from Goree and Sierra Leone were seen in the offing,
responding to his invitation. His stores were packed with British,
French, and American fabrics; while hides, wax, palm-oil, ivory, gold,
and slaves, were the native products for which Spaniards and
Portuguese hurried to proffer their doubloons and bills.
It will be readily conjectured that a very few years sufficed to make
Jack Ormond not only a wealthy merchant, but a popular Mongo among the
great interior tribes of Foulahs and Mandingoes. The petty chiefs,
whose territory bordered the sea, flattered him with the title of
king; and, knowing his _Mormon taste_, stocked his _harem_ with their
choicest children as the most valuable tokens of friendship and
fidelity.
When I was summoned to act as secretary or clerk of such a personage,
I saw immediately that it would be well not only to understand my
duties promptly, but to possess a clear estimate of the property I was
to administer and account for. Ormond's easy habits satisfied me that
he was not a man of business originally, or had become sadly negligent
under the debasing influence of wealth and voluptuousness. My earliest
task, therefore, was to make out a _minute inventory_ of his
possessions, while I kept a watchful eye on his stores, never allowing
any one to enter them unattended. When I presented this document,
which exhibited a large deficiency, the Mongo received it with
indifference, begging me not to "annoy him with accounts." His manner
indicated so much petulant fretfulness, that I augured from it the
conscious decline or disorder of his affairs.
As I was returning to the warehouse from this mortifying interview, I
encountered an ancient hag,--a sort of superintendent Cerberus or
manager of the Mongo's _harem_,--who, by signs, intimated that she
wanted the key to the "cloth-chest," whence she immediately helped
herself to several fathoms of calico. The crone could not speak
English, and, as I did not understand the Soosoo dialect, we attempted
no oral argument about the propriety of her conduct; but, taking a
pencil and paper, and making signs that she should go to the Mongo,
who would write an order for the raiment, I led her quietly to the
door. The wrath of the virago was instantly kindled, while her horrid
face gleamed with that devilish ferocity, which, in some degree is
lost by Africans who dwell on our continent. During the reign of my
predecessors, it seems that she had been allowed to control the store
keys, and to help herself unstintedly. I knew not, of course, what she
_said_ on this occasion; but the violence of her gestures, the nervous
spasms of her limbs, the flashing of her eyes, the scream of her
voluble tongue, gave token that she swelled with a rage which was
augmented by my imperturbable quietness. At dinner, I apprised Mr.
Ormond of the negro's conduct; but he received the announcement with
the same laugh of indifference that greeted the account of his
deficient inventory.
That night I had just stretched myself on my hard pallet, and was
revolving the difficulties of my position with some degree of pain at
my forced continuance in Africa, when my servant tapped softly at the
door, and announced that some one demanded admittance, but begged that
I would first of all extinguish the light. I was in a country
requiring caution; so I felt my pistols before I undid the latch. It
was a bright, star-light night; and, as I opened the door sufficiently
to obtain a glance beyond,--still maintaining my control of the
aperture,--I perceived the figure of a female, wrapped in cotton cloth
from head to foot, except the face, which I recollected as that of the
beautiful _quarteroon_ I was whirling in the waltz, when surprised by
the Mongo. She put forth her hands from the folds of her garment, and
laying one softly on my arm, while she touched her lips with the
other, looked wistfully behind, and glided into my apartment.
This poor girl, the child of a mulatto mother and a white parent, was
born in the settlement of Sierra Leone, and had acquired our language
with much more fluency than is common among her race. It was said that
her father had been originally a missionary from Great Britain, but
abandoned his profession for the more lucrative traffic in slaves, to
which he owed an abundant fortune. It is probable that the early
ecclesiastical turn of her delinquent progenitor induced him, before
he departed for America, to bestow on his child the biblical name of
ESTHER.
I led my trembling visitor to the arm-chest, and, seating her gently
by my side, inquired why I was favored by so stealthy a visit from the
_harem_. My suspicions were aroused; for, though a novice in Africa, I
knew enough of the discipline maintained in these slave factories, not
to allow my fancy to seduce me with the idea that her visit was owing
to mad-cap sentimentality.
The manner of these _quarteroon_ girls, whose complexion hardly
separates them from our own race, is most winningly graceful; and
Esther, with abated breath, timidly asked my pardon for intruding,
while she declared I had made so bitter an enemy of Unga-golah,--the
head-woman of the seraglio,--that, in spite of danger, she stole to my
quarters with a warning. Unga swore revenge. I had insulted and
thwarted her; I was able to thwart her at all times, if I remained the
Mongo's "book-man;"--I must soon "go to another country;" but, if I
did not, I would quickly find the food of Bangalang excessively
unwholesome! "Never eat any thing that a Mandingo offers you," said
Esther. "Take your meals exclusively from the Mongo's table.
Unga-golah knows all the Mandingo _jujus_, and she will have no
scruple in using them in order to secure once more the control of the
store keys. Good night!"
With this she rose to depart, begging me to be silent about her visit,
and to believe that a poor slave could feel true kindness for a white
man, or even expose herself to save him.
If an unruly passion had tugged at my heartstrings, the soft appeal,
the liquid tones, the tenderness of this girl's humanity, would have
extinguished it in an instant. It was the first time for many a long
and desolate mouth that I had experienced the gentle touch of a
woman's hand, or felt the interest of mortal solicitude fall like a
refreshing dew upon my heart! Who will censure me for halting on my
door-sill as I led her forth, retaining her little hand in mine, while
I cast my eyes over the lithe symmetry of those slender and rounded
limbs; while I feasted on the flushed magnolia of those beautiful
cheeks, twined my fingers in the trailing braids of that raven hair,
peered into the blackness of those large and swimming orbs, felt a
tear trickle down my hardening face, and left, on those coral lips,
the print of a kiss that was fuller of gratitude than passion!
* * * * *
Nowadays that Mormonism is grafting a "celestial wifery" upon the
civilization of the nineteenth century, I do not think it amiss to
recall the memory of those African establishments which formed so
large a portion of a trader's homestead. It is not to be supposed that
the luxurious _harem_ of Turkey or Egypt was transferred to the Guinea
coast, or that its lofty walls were barricaded by stout gates, guarded
by troops of sable eunuchs. The "wifery" of my employer was a bare
inclosure, formed by a quadrangular cluster of mud-houses, the
entrance to whose court-yard was never watched save at night.
Unga-golah, the eldest and least delectable of the dames, maintained
the establishment's police, assigned gifts or servants to each female,
and distributed her master's favors according to the bribes she was
cajoled by.
In early life and during his gorged prosperity, Ormond,--a stout,
burly, black-eyed, broad-shouldered, short-necked man,--ruled his
_harem_ with the rigid decorum of the East. But as age and misfortunes
stole over the sensual voluptuary, his mental and bodily vigor became
impaired, not only by excessive drink, but by the narcotics to which
he habitually resorted for excitement. When I became acquainted with
him, his face and figure bore the marks of a worn-out _debauche_. His
harem now was a fashion of the country rather than a domestic resort.
His wives ridiculed him, or amused themselves as they pleased. I
learned from Esther that there was hardly one who did not "flirt" with
a lover in Bangalang, and that Unga-golah was blinded by gifts, while
the stupor of the Mongo was perpetuated by liquor.
It may be supposed that in such a _seraglio_, and with such a master,
there were but few matrimonial jealousies; still, as it would be
difficult to find, even in our most Christian society, two females
without some lurking bitterness towards rivals, so it is not to be
imagined that the Mongo's mansion was free from womanly quarrels.
These disputes chiefly occurred when Ormond distributed gifts of
calico, beads, tobacco, pipes and looking-glasses. If the slightest
preference or inequality was shown, adieu to order. Unga-golah
descended below zero! The favorite wife, outraged by her neglected
authority, became furious; and, for a season, pandemonium was let
loose in Bangalang.
One of these scenes of passion occurs to me as I write. I was in the
store with the Mongo when an aggrieved dame, not remarkable either for
delicacy of complexion or sweetness of odor, entered the room, and
marching up with a swagger to her master, dashed a German
looking-glass on the floor at his feet. She wanted a larger one, for
the glass bestowed on her was half an inch smaller than the gifts to
her companions.
When Ormond was sober, his pride commonly restrained him from allowing
the women to molest his leisure; so he quietly turned from the virago
and ordered her out of the store.
But my lady was not to be appeased by dignity like this. "Ha!"
shrieked the termagant, as she wrenched off her handkerchief. "Ha!"
yelled she, tearing off one sleeve, and then the other. "Ha!" screamed
the fiend, kicking a shoe into one corner, and the other shoe into
another corner. "Ha! Mongo!" roared the beldame, as she stripped every
garment from her body and stood absolutely _naked_ before us, slapping
her wool, cheeks, forehead, breasts, arms, stomach and limbs, and
appealing to Ormond to say where she was deficient in charms, that she
should be slighted half an inch on a looking-glass?
As the Mongo was silent, she strode up to me for an opinion; but,
scarlet with blushes, I dived behind the cloth-chest, and left the
laughing Ormond to gratify the whim of the "_model artiste_."
Years afterwards, I remember seeing an infuriate Ethiopian fling her
infant into the fire because its white father preferred the child of
another spouse. Indeed, I was glad my station at Bangalang did not
make it needful for the preservation of my respectability that I
should indulge in the luxury of _African matrimony_!
* * * * *
But these exhibitions of jealous passion were not excited alone by the
unequal distribution of presents from the liege lord of Bangalang. I
have observed that Ormond's wives took advantage of his carelessness
and age, to seek congenial companionship outside the _harem_.
Sometimes the preference of two of these sable _belles_ alighted on
the same lover, and then the battle was transferred from a worthless
looking-glass to the darling _beau_. When such a quarrel arose, a
meeting between the rivals was arranged out of the Mongo's hearing;
when, throwing off their waist-cloths, the controversy was settled
between the female gladiators without much damage. But, now and then,
the matter was not left to the ladies. The sable lovers themselves
took up the conflict, and a regular challenge passed between the gay
Othellos.
At the appointed time, the duellists appeared upon "the field of
honor" accompanied by friends who were to witness their victory or
sympathize in their defeat. Each stalwart savage leaped into the
arena, armed with a cow-hide cat, whose sharp and triple thongs were
capable of inflicting the harshest blows. They stripped, and tossed
three _cowries_ into the air to determine which of the two should
receive the first lashing. The unfortunate loser immediately took his
stand, and received, with the firmness of a martyr, the allotted
number of blows. Then came the turn of the whipper, who, with equal
constancy, offered his back to the scourge of the enraged sufferer.
Thus they alternated until one gave in, or until the bystanders
decreed victory to him who bore the punishment longest without
wincing. The flayed backs of these "chivalrous men of honor" were ever
after displayed in token of bravery; and, doubtless, their Dulcineas
devoted to their healing the subtlest ointment and tenderest affection
recognized among Africans.