"Don Pedro Blanco had left Gallinas,--a retired _millionnaire_!" When
I heard this announcement at the factory, I could with difficulty
restrain the open expression of my sorrow. It confirmed me in a desire
that for some time had been strengthening in my mind. Years rolled
over my head since, first of all, I plunged accidentally into the
slave-trade. My passion for a roving life and daring adventure was
decidedly cooled. The late barbarities inflicted on the conquered in a
war of which I was the involuntary cause, appalled me with the
traffic; and humanity called louder and louder than ever for the
devotion of my remaining days to honest industry.
As I sailed down the coast to restore a child to his father,--the King
of Cape Mount,--I was particularly charmed with the bold promontory,
the beautiful lake, and the lovely islands, that are comprised in this
enchanting region. When I delivered the boy to his parent, the old
man's gratitude knew no bounds for his offspring's redemption from
slavery. Every thing was tendered for my recompense; and, as I seemed
especially to enjoy the delicious scenery of his realm, he offered me
its best location as a gift, if I desired to abandon the slave-trade
and establish a _lawful_ factory.
I made up my mind on the spot that the day should come when I would be
lord and master of Cape Mount; and, nestling under the lee of its
splendid headland, might snap my fingers at the cruisers. Still I
could not, at once, retreat from my establishment at New Sestros. Don
Pedro's departure was a sore disappointment, because it left my
accounts unliquidated and my release from the trade dependent on
circumstances. Nevertheless, I resolved to risk his displeasure by
quitting the factory for a time, and visiting him at Havana after a
trip to England.
* * * * *
It was in the summer of 1839 that I arranged my affairs for a long
absence, and sailed for London in the schooner Gil Blas. We had a dull
passage till we reached the chops of the British Channel, whence a
smart south-wester drove us rapidly towards our destination.
Nine at night was just striking from the clocks of Dover when a bustle
on deck, a tramping of feet, a confused sound of alarm, orders,
obedience and anxiety, was followed by a tremendous crash which
prostrated me on the cabin floor, whence I bounded, with a single
spring, to the deck. "A steamer had run us down!" Aloft, towered a
huge black wall, while the intruder's cut-water pressed our tiny craft
almost beneath the tide. There was no time for deliberation. The
steamer's headway was stopped. The Gil Blas, like her scapegrace
godfather, was in peril of sinking; and as the wheels began to revolve
and clear the steamer from our wreck, every one scrambled in the best
way he could on board the destroyer.
Our reception on this occasion by the British lion was not the most
respectful or hospitable that might be imagined. In fact, no notice
was taken of us by these "hearts of oak," till a clever Irish soldier,
who happened to be journeying to Dublin, invited us to the forward
cabin. Our mate, however, would not listen to the proposal, and
hastening to the quarter-deck, coarsely upbraided the steamer's
captain with his misconduct, and demanded suitable accommodations for
his wounded commander and passengers.
In a short time the captain of the Gil Blas and I were conducted to
the "gentlemen's cabin," and as I was still clad in the thin cotton
undress in which I was embarking for the land of dreams when the
accident occurred, a shirt and trowsers were handed me fresh from the
slop-shop. When my native servant appeared in the cabin, a shower of
coppers greeted him from the passengers.
Next morning we were landed at Cowes, and as the steward claimed the
restitution of a pair of slippers in which I had encased my toes, I
was forced to greet the loyal earth of England with bare feet as well
as uncovered head. Our sailors, however, were better off. In the
forecastle they had fallen into the hands of Samaritans. A profusion
of garments was furnished for all their wants, while a subscription,
made up among the soldiers and women, supplied them with abundance of
coin for their journey to London.
* * * * *
An economical life in Africa, and a series of rather profitable
voyages, enabled me to enjoy my wish to see London, "above stairs as
well as below."
I brought with me from Africa a body-servant named Lunes, an active
youth, whose idea of city-life and civilization had been derived
exclusively from glimpses of New Sestros and Gallinas. I fitted him
out on my arrival in London as a fashionable "tiger," with red
waistcoat, corduroy smalls, blue jacket and gold band; and trotted him
after me wherever I went in search of diversion. It may be imagined
that I was vastly amused by the odd remarks and the complete
amazement, with which this savage greeted every object of novelty or
interest. After he became somewhat acquainted with the streets of
London, Lunes occasionally made explorations on his own account, yet
he seldom came back without a tale that showed the African to have
been quite as much a curiosity to the cockneys as the cockneys were to
the darkey.
It happened just at this time that "Jim Crow" was the rage at one of
the minor theatres, and as I felt interested to know how the
personification would strike the boy, I sent him one night to the
gallery with orders to return as soon as the piece was concluded. But
the whole night passed without the appearance of my valet. Next
morning I became anxious about his fate, and, after waiting in vain
till noon, I employed a reliable officer to search for the negro,
without disclosing the fact of his servitude.
In the course of a few hours poor Lunes was brought to me in a most
desolate condition. His clothes were in rags, and his gold-lace gone.
It appeared that "Jim Crow" had outraged his sense of African
character so greatly that he could not restrain his passion; but
vented it in the choicest _billingsgate_ with which his vocabulary had
been furnished in the forecastle of the "Gil Blas." His criticism of
the real Jim was by no means agreeable to the patrons of the
fictitious one. In a moment there was a row; and the result was, that
Lunes after a thorough dilapidation of his finery departed in custody
of the police, more, however, for the negro's protection than his
chastisement.
The loss of his dashing waistcoat, and the sound thrashing he received
at the hands of a London mob while asserting the dignity of his
country, and a night in the station house, spoiled my boy's opinion of
Great Britain. I could not induce him afterwards to stir from the
house without an escort, nor would he believe that every policeman was
not specially on the watch to apprehend him. I was so much attached to
the fellow, and his sufferings became so painful, that I resolved to
send him back to Africa; nor shall I ever forget his delight when my
decision was announced. The negro's joy, however, was incomprehensible
to my fellow-lodgers, and especially to the gentle dames, who could
not believe that an African, whose liberty was assured in England,
would _voluntarily_ return to Africa and slavery!
One evening, just before his departure, Lunes was sternly tried on
this subject in my presence in the parlor, yet nothing could make him
revoke his trip to the land of palm-trees and _malaria_. London was
too cold for him;--he hated stockings;--shoes were an abomination!
"Yet, tell me, Lunes," said one of the most bewitching of my fair
friends,--"how is it that you go home to be a slave, when you may
remain in London as a freeman?"
I will repeat his answer--divested of its native gibberish:
"Yes, Madam, I go--because I like my country best; if I am to be a
slave or work, I want to do so for a true _Spaniard_. I don't like
this thing, Miss,"--pointing to his shirt collar,--"it cuts my
ears;--I don't like this thing"--pointing to his trowsers; "I like my
country's fashion better than yours;"--and, taking out a large
handkerchief, he gave the inquisitive dame a rapid demonstration of
African economy in concealing nakedness, by twisting it round those
portions of the human frame which modesty is commonly in the habit of
hiding!
There was a round of applause and a blaze of blushes at this
extemporaneous pantomime, which Lunes concluded with the assurance
that he especially loved his master, because,--"when he grew to be a
proper man, I would give him plenty of wives!"
I confess that my valet's philanthropic audience was not exactly
prepared for this edifying culmination in favor of Africa; but, while
my friends were busy in obliterating the red and the wrinkles from
their cheeks, I took the liberty to enjoy, from behind the shadow of
my tea cup, the manifest disgust they felt for the bad taste of poor
Lunes!