The spreading palm-tree o'er her grave shall wave,
Emblem of bliss eternal!
"See on the grave in which she sleeps,
The soften'd savage sits and weeps;
And the sweet voice of gratitude
Oft names her in the desert rude."
The Missionary.
The infant Samboe, thus bereaved of his suffering mother, was yet too
young to feel the full magnitude of his loss; yet his little heart
experienced emotions he had no power to utter, when he was told she
would never more awake to his call, nor could he feel happy, when,
with expressions of joy, he saw the negroes of the plantation remove
his "silent mother" to the burial ground, with every demonstration
of joy. (Note R.)
An ever kind Providence has, however, made the griefs of children to
be transient; and Samboe, the favourite of Mrs. Delaney, from his
sweetness of disposition, great activity, and early intelligence,
would probably have presented a pleasing exception to the unhappy
lot of his enslaved countrymen--might justly have enjoyed the title
of the happy negro--had his benefactress been spared to bless the
sable dependants on her kindness. But life, at all times and in all
situations transient and uncertain, may be said to be peculiarly so
in the West Indies; the progress of disease being so rapid, and the
excitements to it so many. That dreadful visitation, the yellow fever,
broke out in the district of the Delaney plantation: numberless were
the victims to the "pestilence that walketh in noon-day;" and among
them were Mr. Delaney and his amiable wife.
Those who were capable of appreciating their worth, who had felt
their benevolence, had enjoyed the privileges they allowed, and knew
how rarely they were found in the plantations, mourned them with
unfeigned sorrow, their loss closing up the avenues of consolation and
of hope; and those too young to feel how much they were deprived of,
were quickly made sensible of a change from a system of Christian
love and benevolence, to that built upon the mere hope of worldly
gain. As it is not the custom in the English colonies, as in the
French, for the negroes to be attached to the plantation, those
of the Delaney estate were, upon the sale of it, dispersed amongst
different purchasers; and the infant Samboe became the property of
a cruel mercenary, who employed the poor child to wait upon him,
when indulging in all the luxurious ease of an occidental despot. By
those who have seen the various caprices of a temper altogether
uncontrouled, the whims of a mind destitute of cultivation and
obstinate in ignorance, the cruelty of a disposition formed by the
possession of a precarious power over helpless individuals; by those,
and those only, will the various species of suffering to which the
innocent child was subjected be understood; and the terrors which were
produced by the horrid imprecations, the unmanly abuse, and vulgar
epithets of this brutal master, upon the gentle and timid character
of the poor little Samboe. It was then he began to feel the loss,
and to pine for the tenderness of his mother and his benefactress;
and there is little doubt but he would have soon followed them to
the tomb, had not an incident occurred, that emancipated him from the
tyrannical controul by which he so acutely suffered. One day, while
attending his master at breakfast, just as he handed the coffee his
foot slipped, and it was thrown over a beautiful cimar, which the
luxurious planter highly valued, as the gift of a lady to whom he
was partial. He rose in haste and in anger, and aiming a blow at the
now kneeling boy, missed the blow, and fell himself to the ground,
striking his head by the fall against the edge of a sofa. Seeing him
suddenly fall, some attendants in waiting rushed to his assistance,
but in vain: the blow had been fatal, he had fallen to rise no more
on earth! Happy was it for Samboe that there were witnesses, white
witnesses of the scene, who could exonerate him from all intentional
connexion with, or wilful provocation to the catastrophe. The alarm,
however, of the unoffending child was distressing: the countenance
of the planter at all times bore evidence of his ill-regulated mind
and indurated heart, and the awful hand of death fixed them in an
expression the most horrid. With little idea of such sudden death,
the poor child thought he was but in a violent passion, and, in the
most piteous accents, clasping his hands together, besought "massa to
forgive poor Samboe, who would not break cup any more, would not spoil
dress any more." But his supplication was alike unheeded by master
and attendants, except by one, who kicking him as he passed, said:
"Get out of the way, ye little whining dog, or I'll make ye." Samboe
crept from the apartment, and crouching under some furniture, felt
all the bitterness of a life of slavery, of which nature, in its first
fresh feelings, can be capable. Happily again for the infant captive,
the wife of the planter could not bear to retain in her service the
innocent cause of her husband's death; at least, secretly rejoicing
at her own emancipation from his arbitrary disposition, she affected
so to say: consequently, she expressed her wish of selling him to
the manager of a neighbouring plantation, but as her recent loss
rendered it impossible for her to have a personal interview, she
thus communicated her wish by note to this person: "Unable to bear
the sight of the young author of the death of the best and tenderest
of husbands, Mrs. Williamson requests the favour of Mr. Martin to
take charge of, and dispose of him, in any way he may judge most
conducive to her interest, and to employ the proceeds in the purchase
of a more effective, that is, laborious slave. Mrs. W. relies on the
known kindness of Mr. M. to render this service to the disconsolate
widow of his late friend." My young readers will doubtless be shocked,
that Mrs. Williamson should thus profess grief for the loss of a man
she married for his wealth, without either esteeming or loving him;
but it is no fancied picture, and is presented to show, that, unless
the heart is continually watched, and the mind sedulously cultivated,
in situations favourable to indolence and self-indulgence, the moral
feelings quickly become blunted, and the individual can easily,
and without any self-reproach, assume any sentiments and any line
of conduct which best suits the whim or caprice of the moment;
and she hated the little Samboe, because she once overheard him,
in a moment of unusual gaiety, telling a circle of slaves what
merry dances they had at Delaney, when dear Missy Delaney danced
with poor Samboe. Upon such trifles will envy condescend to feed its
insatiate appetite. Good, however, to Samboe, was educed from all this
evil. Mr. Martin was the respectable and humane manager of the Moreton
estate; (see "Twilight Hours Improved," page 85;) subjected to his
superintendence during the minority of Mr. Frederick Moreton, by the
will of his deceased father; and whose humane treatment of his negroes
had excited the displeasure of the young man's guardian, Mr. Penryn,
who firmly believed the African race created only to become the slaves
of Europeans. Mr. Martin lost no time in complying with the request
of his fair neighbour. He well remembered frequently having seen the
little Samboe in attendance upon his imperious master, and never failed
to admire his extreme docility, mildness, and intelligence; and he
looked upon the circumstance of Mrs. Williamson's desire to sell him,
as very fortunate, as he had, only a few days previous, received the
commission to send to England a negro boy for his young master.
The purchase was soon made, and Samboe was once more under the roof of
an indulgent master. Every attention was given, in order to establish
his health, and improve his personal appearance, that he might credit
the choice of his purchaser, and please the young eye of his future
master. He only remained at Jamaica to effect these purposes, when he
was consigned to the care of the captain of an English West Indiaman,
with instructions to have him safely conveyed to Mr. Penryn's,
Portman Square.
Samboe evinced the greatest reluctance to go on board; he clung
to Mr. Martin, who himself conducted him, and trembled violently,
declaring he could not go into great ship, or on great wide sea. No one
could account for this extraordinary reluctance and evident terror; for
they knew not that the young heart of the little negro was throbbing
with recollections for which he had no name, and which he had no
power to express. It is true, they were vague, like the confused
remembrance of a troubled dream, but they were powerful; and it was
with the utmost difficulty Mr. Martin soothed him, by gentleness,
promises, and assurances; and, after all, was obliged to leave him,
when he had cried himself to sleep upon a coil of rope on the deck,
no one being able to prevail upon him to go below, and Mr. Martin
positively forbidding coercion.
The grief and terror of the poor boy were renewed, when he discovered
he had been left by Mr Martin; but a series of kind treatment, and
many little indulgences granted him, after a while reconciled him
to his new situation; while his simplicity and quickness greatly
endeared him to the sailors, with whom he became quite a pet. The
voyage passed in this manner without any particular occurrence; and
Samboe was introduced, one evening, to the dining room of Mr. Penryn,
filled with elegant company.
Had he been one of the wonders of the world, he probably would not have
excited more attention, or elicited more remarks. The ladies admired
his eyes and his teeth; the gentlemen enquired if he was a Molembo,
or from the Kroo country, and began an animated debate on slavery,
and the slave-trade. Each lady gave her opinion of the most becoming
dress to contrast with the jet black of his skin. One asked him if was
not glad to come to England; another enquired if he was sorry to leave
Africa; a third enquired if they flogged him at the plantation; while
a fourth, by way of compliment to the lady of the house, observed,
he was a happy black boy, to have such a charming mistress. To all
these remarks the poor child could give no reply; nor, it would seem,
was it expected; and, much to his joy, he was dismissed to the care
of the groom, until his apartment and employment about the person of
his young master could be arranged.
The groom, however, was highly indignant that a vile neger boy
should be committed to his care: "Did they fancy he would let a
black get between his sheets? No, indeed; there was the hay-loft,
the stable-boy should pull him a truss of straw in the corner there:
surely that would be a better bed than most negers got. Sleep with
me, indeed; no, I'd lose my place first, and tis'n't a bad one,
neither. Had they told me to take Cæsar the house-dog, or Neptune
the Newfoundlander, I should not have so much have minded; but a
neger boy! surely my master was half-seas over to think of it." This,
and much more of the same refined objection, passed in the kitchen
of ---- Penryn, esq. and, according to the groom's kind arrangement,
Samboe was indulged with some clean straw in the stable-loft.
The children of oppression and calamity quickly sympathize; a kindred
feeling draws them together: thus it was with Samboe the African,
and Frank the English stable boy. An orphan from his cradle,
and a parish apprentice, Frank had been early subjected to every
oppression--exposed to every temptation; but a certain buoyancy of
spirit, and a persevering ardour of mind, enabled him to rise above
the one; and the latter was rendered less dangerous, by his constant,
unremitted love of employment. He was busily engaged mending his
shoes, when his master, the groom, introduced the young negro to his
acquaintance. "There, Frank," he said, "there is a companion for you,
my lad; take care he don't touch the horses, and mind he don't run
away. Lock him up when you come in for your supper: you may offer him
some, but I don't know what negers eat, I'm sure. Master should have
told us that, I think, for I don't expect they live as we do. Eh! my
lad, do ye mind me?" he added, with a raised voice, as he saw Frank
take the hand of the timid Samboe, and ask him if he was tired. "Oh
yes, sir!" he replied, touching his fur cap, "I will be sure to take
care of him."
Glad to get quit of the restraint which the charge imposed upon him,
the groom was in high good humour with Frank, and promised, if he would
attend to his orders, he would give him a shilling. Astonished at his
unwonted generosity, Frank repeated his assurances; and having made
his new companion understand that he desired to make him comfortable,
with the happy facility of children to be so when left to themselves,
they quickly became acquainted. Frank found that negers could eat
good bread and fresh meat; that they had no objection to tarts; and
that even a custard, given by the cook as a treat to merry Frank,
was equally relished by the neger boy. After this luxurious repast,
during which, if it was not the "feast of reason and the flow of soul,"
there was, most unquestionably, innate benevolence on one side, and
genuine gratitude on the other, the new-made friends sought repose on
the same clean truss of straw, and together enjoyed the refreshment
of "nature's sweet restorer." Not long, however, after they had thus
lain down, Frank was roused from his yet imperfect slumber, by a
slight rustling and a low voice, very near him. He spoke gently to
his new bed-fellow, but received no reply. Frank had that tincture of
superstition which usually attaches to the ignorant and uncultivated;
and the unusual sound, his new situation, and the profound darkness,
aided the impression; while a thought of the little negro became
associated with the recollection of several marvellous ghost-stories he
had heard. He ventured, however, (not without considerable reluctance,)
to feel if his sable companion was by his side, and discovered, to
his amazement, that he was not there. The murmur still continued,
and Frank, trembling all over him, made a desperate effort, and
called lustily, "Samboe, Samboe!" "Samboe here," replied the boy,
in a soft and gentle tone; "Samboe here, but wicked boy."
Frank's courage returned at the sound of Samboe's voice clearly
pronouncing these words, although he was at a loss to account
for his self-accusation. "Why, what have you done to be wicked;
where are you?" he enquired. Samboe's imperfect knowledge of the
English language, permitted him not to understand the full import
of these questions; and it was not until Frank, with renewed courage
at finding his companion was really a mortal, contrived to make him
understand his repeated enquiry, why he had risen, and why he called
himself wicked? "Because Samboe forgot lesson dear Missy Delaney teach
him. Pray to great God before sleep; pray to great God when eyes open;
pray to good God give food; pray to good God give friends."
Frank now understood, that Samboe, in the novelty of his situation,
and probably from the effects of a little porter he had taken,
had forgotten to offer his simple tribute of thanks and respect to
the omnipotent Creator, which the good Mrs. Delaney had taught him
habitually to do; although he was too young when she died, to admit
any further religious instruction, or to understand more than that
a great God, beyond the blue sky, observed all his actions.
Samboe had never, until this night, neglected this lesson; but, with
uplifted hands and bended knee, was accustomed to acknowledge the
protection and the support of the Being he had been taught to regard,
as ever beholding, and with unwearied care protecting, all men. Sleep,
however, had not closed his eyes, ere the omission was recollected,
and he had crept out of the straw, to offer his simple orison, the low
murmur of which had so much alarmed his new friend. Having concluded,
he returned to his straw couch, and slept the sleep of innocence,
untill awaked by Frank rising to his morning duty in the stables.
Frank possessed an intelligence of mind, as well as activity of spirit,
which required but opportunities to develope themselves. The incident
of Samboe's forgotten prayer, impressed his youthful mind. How was
it he had never been taught to pray? He had never seen it practised
among those he had been with. He thought people went to church to
pray; yet surely if a black boy thought it right to pray, a white
boy ought. Perhaps it was a custom among them? Yet, such was the
innate impression he had, that it was right and proper, that he
felt a species of shame to answer Samboe in the negative, when he
artlessly enquired if he did not pray to great God, to take care of
him; he, too, who knew so many things: for, to Samboe, Frank seemed
a miracle of cleverness, when he described his various employments,
and displayed, to his astonished visitor, the results of his ingenuity,
which he did with no little self-complacency.
Samboe seemed now the happiest of human beings. He suffered nothing
to pass unnoticed; asking the reason, the use, the name of every
thing he heard, or saw, or touched. This he contrived to do, either
by broken words, gestures, or signs. The new-made friends thus passed
several hours of the morning, before the groom made his appearance;
for, although his apartments were above the stables, he did not often
occupy them, finding numerous engagements more pleasant than attending
to his duty.
The only unpleasant circumstance of this morning of delight to
Samboe, was its chilliness. It was one of those which frequently
occur in May, as if to reprove the hastiness of the family of Flora,
in putting forth their fair forms; and its asperity was severely felt
by the little African. Frank determined to make him as comfortable
as he could; and having received no orders to the contrary, lighted
a fire in the groom's room, and invited Samboe to its genial warmth,
while he quickly prepared a comfortable mess of milk-pottage.
They were thus enjoying themselves, when the master of the house
appeared, half awake, and storming at Frank for a lazy dog, for not
having swept the stable-door. But he supposed he and the beggarly
neger had been idling away their time together. Frank, who was used
to his arbitrary temper, said little; but, making signs for Samboe to
return to the loft, he quickly prepared every thing for his master's
toilet, and proceeded to rectify the omission of not having swept the
door-way. While thus engaged, a servant from the house arrived with
an order to the groom to take the negro-boy to a clothes-shop, and
have him neatly clothed, until a a proper dress could be fixed upon;
as he was to have an interview with his mistress and young master,
who neither of them could bear the smell of tar, exhaling from the
filthy things he wore.
This message, delivered in due form to the groom while he was shaving
himself, nearly endangered his cutting his throat, by the resentful
agitation it caused, that he should be appointed to wait upon a
neger. It was a degradation which he could not, nor would not submit
to. Following, therefore, the example of his superiors, he delegated
the office to his subordinate; and calling loudly for Frank, as soon
as the messenger had left him, he desired him to take the black he
seemed so fond of, to Mr. Draper's, and get him rigged. "And mind
ye, Frank, boy, call at the 'potecaries or 'fumers, and bid 'em
pour some musk or lavender, or something sweet over the lad, for
missis is very particular; and as to Master Fred, I shall have him
trying how my legs will bear the exercise of his new hunting-whip,
if I do not please him about this black, who, I dare say, will not be
long before he feels it. But I suppose he has been used to flogging,
so it will be nothing to him."
Frank, highly pleased with this important commission, called the
shivering boy from the hay-chamber, and in no long time he was
completely equipped, in a suit according to the taste of Frank and
the vender: certainly as stiff and ill made as it well could be;
while the effusion of lavender-water was completely accomplished,
even till the poor boy's eyes became filled with tears, from the
potency of the perfume, and every person he passed on his return,
half stopped, at meeting with the unusual odour.
Samboe, however, had yet some hours to become reconciled to his new
habiliment; and his friend Frank had so many modes and sources of
employment and amusement, that those hours passed insensibly away. At
length, about four o'clock, the groom again appeared to conduct him
to the house; and when arrived, a footman desired him to follow him to
the apartment of his lady, previously to her taking her morning airing.