I might fairly be accused of ingratitude if I passed without notice
the Colony of Liberia and its capital, whose hospitable doors were
opened widely to receive an exile, when the barbarians of New Sestros
drove me from that settlement.
It is not my intention to tire the reader with an account of Liberia,
for I presume that few are unacquainted with the thriving condition of
those philanthropic lodgments, which hem the western coast of Africa
for near eight hundred miles.
In my former visits to Monrovia, I had been regarded as a dangerous
intruder, who was to be kept for ever under the vigilant eyes of
government officials. When my character as an established slaver was
clearly ascertained, the port was interdicted to my vessels, and my
appearance in the town itself prohibited. Now, however, when I came as
a fugitive from violence, and with the acknowledged relinquishment of
my ancient traffic, every hand was extended in friendship and
commiseration. The governor and council allowed the landing of my
rescued slave-goods on deposit, while the only two servants who
continued faithful were secured to me as apprentices by the court.
Scarcely more than two months ago, the people of this quiet village
were disturbed from sleep by the roll of drums beating for recruits to
march against "_the slaver Canot_;" to-day I dine with the chief of
the colony and am welcomed as a brother! This is another of those
remarkable vicissitudes that abound in this work, and which the
critics, in all likelihood, may consider too often repeated. To my
mind, however, it is only another illustration of the probability of
the odd and the strangeness of _truth_!
I had no difficulty in finding all sorts of workmen in Monrovia, for
the colonists brought with them all the mechanical ingenuity and
thrift that characterize the American people. In four months, with the
assistance of a few carpenters, sawyers and blacksmiths, I built a
charming little craft of twenty-five tons, which, in honor of my
British protector, I dubbed the "Termagant." I notice the construction
of this vessel, merely to show that the colony and its people were
long ago capable of producing every thing that may be required by a
commercial state in the tropics. When my cutter touched the water, she
was indebted to foreign countries for nothing but her copper, chains
and sails, every thing else being the product of Africa and _colonial_
labor. Had nature bestowed a better harbor on the Mesurado river, and
afforded a safer entrance for large vessels, Monrovia would now be
second only to Sierra Leone. Following the beautiful border of the
Saint Paul's, a few miles from Monrovia the eye rests on extensive
plains teeming with luxurious vegetation. The amplest proof has been
given of the soil's fertility in the production of coffee, sugar,
cotton and rice. I have frequently seen cane fourteen feet high, and
as thick as any I ever met with in the Indies. Coffee-trees grow much
larger than on this side of the Atlantic; single trees often yielding
sixteen pounds, which is about seven more than the average product in
the West Indies.[H] Throughout the entire jurisdiction between Cape
Mount and Cape Palmas, to the St. Andrew's, the soil is equally
prolific. Oranges, lemons, cocoanuts, pine-apples, mangoes, plums,
granadillas, sour and sweet sop, plantains, bananas, guyavas,
tamarinds, ginger, sweet potatoes, yams, cassava, and corn, are found
in abundance; while the industry of American settlers has lately added
the bread-fruit, rose apple, patanga, cantelope, water-melon, aguacate
and mulberry. Garden culture produces every thing that may be desired
at the most luxurious table.
Much has been said of the "pestilential climate of Africa," and the
certain doom of those who venture within the spell of its miasma. I
dare not deny that the coast is scourged by dangerous maladies, and
that nearly all who take up their abode in the colonies are obliged to
undergo the ordeal of a fever which assails them with more or less
virulence, according to the health, constitution, or condition of the
patient. Yet I think, if the colonization records are read with a
candid spirit, they will satisfy unprejudiced persons that the
mortality of emigrants has diminished nearly one half, in consequence
of the sanitary care exercised by the colonial authorities during the
period of acclimation. The colonies are now amply supplied with
lodgings for new comers, where every thing demanded for comfort, cure,
or alleviation, is at hand in abundance. Colored physicians, who
studied their art in America, have acquainted themselves with the
local distempers, and proved their skill by successful practice. Nor
is there now the difficulty or expense which, twelve years ago, before
the destruction of the neighboring slave marts, made it almost
impossible to furnish convalescents with that delicate nourishment
which was needed to re-establish their vigor.
* * * * *
It may not be amiss if I venture to hope that these colonial
experiments, which have been fostered for the civilization of Africa
as well as for the amelioration of the American negro's lot, will
continue to receive the support of all good men. Some persons assert
that the race is incapable of self-government beyond the tribal state,
and _then_ only through fear; while others allege, that no matter what
care may be bestowed on African intellect, it is unable to produce or
sustain the highest results of modern civilization. It would not be
proper for any one to speak oracularly on this mooted point; yet, in
justice to the negroes who never left their forests, as well as to
those who have imbibed, for more than a generation, the civilization
of Europe or America, I may unhesitatingly say, that the colonial
trial has thus far been highly promising. I have often been present at
difficult councils and "_palavers_" among the _wild_ tribes, when
questions arose which demanded a calm and skilful judgment, and in
almost every instance, the decision was characterized by remarkable
good sense and equity. In most of the _colonies_ the men who are
intrusted with local control, a few years since were either slaves in
America, or employed in menial tasks which it was almost hopeless they
could escape. Liberia, at present, may boast of several individuals,
who, but for their caste, might adorn society; while they who have
personally known Roberts, Lewis, Benedict, J. B. McGill, Teage, Benson
of Grand Bassa, and Dr. McGill of Cape Palmas, can bear testimony that
nature has endowed numbers of the colored race with the best qualities
of humanity.
Nevertheless, the prosperity, endurance and influence of the colonies,
are still problems. I am anxious to see the second generation of the
colonists in Africa. I wish to know what will be the force and
development of the negro mind on its native soil,--civilized, but cut
off from all instruction, influence, or association with the white
mind. I desire to understand, precisely, whether the negro's faculties
are original or imitative, and consequently, whether he can stand
alone in absolute independence, or is only respectable when reflecting
a civilization that is cast on him by others.
If the descendants of the present colonists, increased by an immense
immigration _of all classes and qualities_ during the next twenty-five
years, shall sustain the young nation with that industrial energy and
political dignity that mark its population in our day, we shall hail
the realized fact with infinite delight. We will rejoice, not only
because the emancipated negro may thenceforth possess a realm wherein
his rights shall be sacred, but because the civilization with which
the colonies must border the African continent, will, year by year,
sink deeper and deeper into the heart of the interior, till barbarism
and Islamism will fade before the light of Christianity.
But the test and trial have yet to come. The colonist of our time is
an exotic under glass,--full, as yet, of sap and stamina drawn from
his native America, but nursed with care and exhibited as the
efflorescence of modern philanthropy. Let us hope that this wholesome
guardianship will not be too soon or suddenly withdrawn by the parent
societies; but that, while the state of pupilage shall not be
continued till the immigrants and their children are emasculated by
lengthened dependence, it will be upheld until the republic shall
exhibit such signs of manhood as cannot deceive the least hopeful.
FOOTNOTE:
[H] I wish to confirm and fortify this statement in regard to the
value of coffee culture in the colonies, by the observation of Dr.
J. W. Lugenbeel, late colonial physician and United States agent in
Liberia. The Doctor gave "particular attention to observations and
investigations respecting coffee culture in Liberia." "I have
frequently seen," he says, "isolated trees growing in different parts
of Liberia, which yielded from ten to twenty pounds of clean dry
coffee at one picking; and, however incredible it may appear, it is a
fact that one tree in Monrovia yielded four and a half bushels of
coffee in the hull, at one time, which, when dried and shelled,
weighed thirty-one pounds. This is the largest quantity I ever heard
of, and the largest tree I ever saw, being upwards of twenty feet high
and of proportionate dimensions."
The Doctor is of opinion, however, that as the coffee-tree begins to
bear at the end of its fourth year, an _average_ yield at the end of
the sixth year may be calculated on of at least four pounds. Three
hundred trees may be planted on an acre, giving each twelve feet, and
in six years the culture will become profitable as well as easy.