Chapter XIX (2)

‘The king then said, with a serious countenance, “that there was no necessity for further discussion respecting the white men, his mind was already made up on the subject;” and, for the first time, he briefly explained himself to this effect:—“That circumstances having thrown us in the way of his subjects, by the laws and usages of the country he was not only entitled to our own persons, but had equal right to those of our attendants; that he should take no further advantage of his good fortune than by exchanging us for as much English goods as would amount in value to twenty slaves. In order to have the matter fairly arranged and settled, he should, of his own accord, prevent our leaving the town, till such time as our countrymen at Brass or Bonny should pay for our ransom, having understood from ourselves that the English at either of those rivers would afford us whatever assistance we might require, with cheerfulness and alacrity. Concerning the goods of which we had been robbed at Kirree, he assured us that he would use his utmost exertions to get them restored. He lamented that circumstance more than any one, but he denied that a single subject of his had anything to do with it, and attributed the whole of that unfortunate affair to the rashness and brutality of a certain people that inhabited a country nearly opposite to his own, whose monarch was his particular friend, therefore he apprehended little difficulty in seeing justice done us; but then,” said he, “it is necessary that you should wait here for an indefinite time till a council of that nation be held, when the plunderers will be examined, and your claims established. The Damuggoo people that have come with you, have, like yourselves, suffered much loss; for my own part I shall make them a present of a slave or two as a compensation, and they have my permission to go along with you for the present, which I understand you have promised their monarch; but you must not expect them to be your guide to the sea, for their responsibility ends here.”

‘When all this was interpreted to me by Antonio, I was thunderstruck. It was in vain that I assured Obie that there was not the slightest necessity for our detention in the town, that our countrymen would redeem us the moment they should see us, but not before; and equally unavailing were my solicitations for him to alter this arrangement and suffer us to depart; but the fears of his subjects, and the representations of the men of Brass, had made too deep an impression on his mind to be so easily eradicated: we found it too late either to implore or remonstrate.

‘This final decision of the king is a bitter stroke to us; for we fondly indulged the hope of a more favourable result from the deliberations of the savage council, at whose dissolution we expected to be sent to the sea-coast without being perplexed with further embarrassments. We have now to await the return of a messenger from thence, who has not yet been sent on his errand, and he is to bring back with him the value of twenty slaves ere we obtain our freedom. Heaven only knows whether the masters of English vessels at Bonny or Brass have the ability or will feel a disposition to ransom us. We only know that if disposed of at all, we shall be sold for infinitely more than we are worth.

‘As may naturally be supposed, I returned home much depressed and afflicted to inform my brother of the result of the palàver, and he was as greatly surprised and affected as myself at the intelligence. But though we are full of trouble and uneasiness at our gloomy situation, yet we do not repine at the divine dispensations of that Almighty Providence, which has comforted us in the hour of adversity, and relieved us in times of pain and distress,—which has rescued us from the lap of danger, and snatched us from the jaws of death.’

_Thursday, November 11th._—This morning my brother felt himself extremely unwell, but I am rather better. In truth we wonder much that our health, generally speaking, has been so good, when we reflect for a moment on the hardships and privations which we have lately undergone, the perplexities in which we have been entangled, and the difficulties with which we have had to contend. After all of them, however, by the blessing and mercy of our God, instead of sorrow and suffering, we have enjoyed a lightness and even levity of spirits, which caused them to make but a feeble and transient impression upon our minds; but Nature, though she make extraordinary efforts for a time, will at last be crushed by repeated disappointments, cares, and vexations, unless she be supported by the vigour of health, and encouraged by the excitement of powerful feelings; whilst Hope, that most agreeable but delusive phantom, is oftener sought than found, and will frequently vanish from the desponding bosom, when her influence is most required, leaving it for a season a prey to fear and suspicion, and the whole dark and sorrowful train of the depressing passions. Under their baneful influence we are at present, in some degree, labouring; and we occasionally fall into such a state of apathy and quietism, in regard to our present situation and future prospects, as to be perfectly indifferent about them; and I verily believe that if a single struggle could restore us to freedom and happiness, we should scarcely have sufficient animation to make that effort. I blush to say that on these occasions, neither the reflection of _past_ deliverances, nor the consciousness that we are still under the protection of the same beneficent and indulgent Being, that has ever been our refuge and guardian, can restore entirely our confidence in His mercies, or teach us to be resigned to His divine will.

During the few days that we have spent in this place, we have been sadly perplexed for want of provisions, and our people, who for the first day bore this privation in silence, have since then been loud in their complaints. The constant fear which they entertain of being taken away and sold, has now, however, changed this lively feeling of discontent into sullenness and despondency. What makes the matter still worse is the fact that having lost our needles and cowries at Kirree, we have not the means of purchasing anything, although the cowry shell is not current here. Poverty is in most places, I believe, considered one of the greatest of evils, but it is more particularly so here where it is tantamount to a curse, (or at least it is reckoned so in us;) and where the virtues of benevolence and humanity, if exercised at all, are never displayed except on extraordinary occasions. Obie has been in the habit of sending us a fowl, or a yam or two every morning; but, as we are ten in number, it makes but a slender meal, and it is barely sufficient to keep us from actual starvation. To stop, if possible, the sullen murmurings of our people, we have been reduced to the painful necessity of begging; but we might as well have addressed our petitions to the stones or trees,—we might have spared ourselves the mortification of a refusal. We never experienced a more stinging sense of our own humbleness and imbecility than on such occasions, and never had we greater need of patience and lowliness of spirit. In most African towns and villages we have been regarded as demi-gods, and treated in consequence with universal kindness, civility, and veneration; but here, alas! what a contrast,—we are classed with the most degraded and despicable of mankind, and are become slaves in a land of ignorance and barbarism, whose savage natives have treated us with brutality and contempt. It would be hard to guess whence these unkindly feelings towards us have originated; we feel that we have not deserved them, yet the consciousness of our own insignificance sadly militates against every idea of self-love and self-importance, and teaches us a plain and useful moral lesson! Though we make the most charitable allowances for the Eboe people, we are notwithstanding obliged to consider them the most inhospitable tribe, as well as the most covetous and uncivil that we are acquainted with. Their monarch and a respectable married female, who has passed the meridian of her days, are the only individuals, amongst several thousands, that have shown us anything like civility or kindness, and the latter alone has acted, we are convinced, solely from disinterested motives.

All ranks of people here are passionately fond of palm-wine, and drink of it to excess whenever they have an opportunity, which often occurs, as great quantities of it are produced in the town and its neighbourhood. It is a very general and favourite custom with them, as soon as the sun goes down, to hold large meetings and form parties in the open air or under the branches of trees, to talk over the events of the day, and make merry with this exciting beverage. These assemblies are kept up till after midnight; and as the revellers generally contrive to get inebriated very soon after they sit down to drink, the greatest part of the evening is devoted to wrangling and fighting, instead of convivial intercourse, and occasionally the most fearful noises that it is possible for the mind to conceive. Bloodshed and even murder, it is said, not unfrequently terminate these boisterous and savage entertainments. A meeting of this description is held outside the yard of our residence every evening, and the noise which they make is really terrifying, more especially when the women and young people join in the affray, for a quarrel of some sort is sure to ensue. Their cries, groans, and shrieks of agony, are dreadful, and would lead a stranger to suppose that these dismal and piercing sounds proceeded from individuals about to be butchered, or that they were extorted by the last pangs of anguish and suffering. We trembled with alarm for the first night or two, imagining from these loud and doleful cries, that a work of bloodshed and slaughter was in progress; and we found it useless to endeavour to sleep, till the impression of the first wild cry that was uttered, and the last faint scream had worn away. But now we are in some measure more reconciled to them from the frequency of their occurrence, or rather we feel less apprehension than we did, as to their origin,—understanding with surprise that they are only the effects of a simple quarrel, and excite from the inhabitants no more than a casual remark; though they say that, in fits of ungovernable passion, the most heinous crimes are consummated in these frantic revels.

Our matronly female acquaintance, though excessively fat, is of diminutive stature, and by her cheerful pleasantry she has beguiled in some degree the wearisomeness of the long evening hours, and banished that _ennui_, which the disagreeableness of our situation has partially induced, simply by her endeavours to do so. For not content with paying us formal visits in the day-time, she comes into our yard every night, instead of joining the orgies of her acquaintance, accompanied by two or three friends of congenial natures, with the very benevolent intention of pitying our misfortunes, and dissipating our melancholy. Two or three slaves follow their mistress into the yard, carrying a few bottles of their favourite ‘palm wine,’ and perhaps with a plate of bananas also, that the evening may be passed the more agreeably.

Our sleeping quarters are in a recess, which is elevated three or four feet from the ground, and supported by wooden columns. It is without a door, or indeed anything answering the same purpose, so that we enjoy the refreshing coolness of the evening air, with the disadvantage of being gazed at by whoever has the curiosity to enter our premises. We generally lie down shortly after sunset, and presently our fat, jolly, little friend, duck-like, waddles into our yard with her companions and slaves, to offer us the evening salutation, and enter into the usual familiar discourse. This is commonly preceded by a large potation of palm-wine, which is relished with a loud and peculiar smack, expressive of the pleasure and satisfaction afforded by so copious a draught, and betokening also much internal warmth and comfort. The officious slaves having spread mats for the purpose directly in front of our recess, our lady-visitor and her associates, together with our ill-natured host, who has by this time joined the party, squat themselves down in a circle, and under the inspiration of the fermented juice, maintain a pretty animated conversation till it is all expended, and sleep ‘weighs their eyelids down.’ For ourselves we have little if anything to say, because we are pretty nearly as ignorant of their language, as they are of ours; and interpretation is unfavourable to the contagion of social felicity. Yet it is highly diverting to watch the influence of the palm-wine on their looks, language and ideas. The flushed countenance is invisible in a black lady; but then she has the liquid and unsettled eye, the proneness to talk with irresistible garrulity, the gentle simper or the bursting laugh, at any trifle, or at nothing at all; and to wind up the list of symptoms, she has that complacent idea of her own good points, and superior qualifications, which elicit her own approbation without exciting the applauses of her associates, and which distinguish the inexperienced male reveller in every part of the globe. All these were observable in our talkative little friend, as well as in her companions. It is a relief also to contemplate from our resting-place, the peace and harmony of the little party before us, so entirely different from the boisterous one without, because it gives us a comfortable sense of our own security, which we should not certainly have entertained had we been left to our own reflections; and when after a good deal of turning and restlessness we at length fall into a disagreeable and unrefreshing dose, and are attacked by that hideous phantom, nightmare, which is often the case,—starting up in a fright from the assassin’s knife, which we can scarcely persuade ourselves to be unreal—it is pleasant to fix our eyes upon our comical little visiter, with her round shining face, and her jolly companions; all apprehension of mischief immediately vanishes, and a truly pleasing effect is produced upon our minds and spirits. The breaking up of the party outside is a signal for our friends also to depart, when, rising from her mat, the mistress, after shaking hands, wishes us good night, in a thick tremulous tone, and waddling out of our yard in a direction which Hogarth denominates ‘the line of beauty,’ she returns home to her husband, who is a valetudinarian. Thus our evenings are past, and thus much of our solitary Eboe friend.

In addition to the value of twenty slaves which the King of Eboe demands for us, we hear that King Boy requires the value of fifteen casks of palm oil, which is the same as fifteen slaves, for himself, and as payment for the trouble he and his people will have in conducting us to the English vessel. He says that he must take three canoes and one hundred and fifty people, and therefore that it is impossible he can do it for less. The chief has said that if I do not consent to give King Boy a _book_ for all this money, he shall send us into the interior of the country to be sold, and that we shall never see the sea again. I see clearly that we have no alternative, and I think it best to agree to give him the bill, not intending, however, on our arrival at the sea, to give him more than twenty common trade guns, to pay this chief and all other expenses. King Boy was to give Obie five pieces of cloth and one gun, as part payment; the remainder is to be paid on his return from having delivered us up to the brig. Our people are all in high spirits at the prospect of leaving this place and obtaining their freedom, for they have so much faith in the character of the English, that they do not doubt that the Captain of the brig will redeem us.

The Eboe people have a savage appearance. The custom of marking their temples with indigo, in the shape of an arrow, is general among them, both with the males and females. The women are generally pretty and wear the same sort of ivory rings round their legs and wrists, to which allusion has been previously made. They are extensive traders, and supply the Brass people entirely with palm oil, poultry, goats, and yams, &c. The Eboe people are also famous for making large canoes, and all those of the different rivers, from Benin to Calebar, are constructed by them. Since the first day of our arrival we have had no fowl, but have been kept on the regular slave allowance of half a yam per day. This may have preserved our health, for it is more than likely that if we had lived well after being nearly starved, and exposed as we had been to the hot sun during the day, and the dews at night, we should have had some dangerous fever.

Last evening, Obie, in his showy coral dress, came barefooted to our hut, to inspect our books, and examine the contents of our medicine chest. His approach was announced to us by the jingling of the little bells which encircled his feet. He appeared greatly pleased with everything he saw, and looked aghast when informed of the powerful properties of some of the medicines, which ended in a fit of laughter. He expressed a strong desire to have a little, especially the purgatives; and as we treated the sultan of Yàoorie and family, so we treated him. Obie, was evidently fearful of our books, having been informed that they could ‘tell all things;’ and appeared to shrink with horror at one which was offered him, shaking his head, saying that he must not accept it, for that it was good only for white men, ‘whose God was not his God!’ The visit was of short duration.

We found King Boy in the inner yard of the king’s house again to-day, and from his significant physiognomy we conjectured that he had something of consequence to communicate. Obie received us with his usual politeness and jocularity; but instantly directed his attention and discourse to King Boy, who maintained an earnest and pretty animated conversation with him for some time. The Bonny people were in attendance, weeping. As we were frequently pointed out and named, we had no doubt whatever that it was chiefly concerning ourselves, which opinion was soon after confirmed. As if the parties had some secrets to discuss which they did not wish either their attendants or our own to overhear, they retired to the middle court, where having conversed for a time by themselves, they returned with anxious looks to resume the conversation. This was repeated twice; after which (as we subsequently understood) Obie briefly related in a loud voice the result of this extraordinary conference, and all present, except the men of Bonny, shouted simultaneously the monosyllable ‘Yah!’ as a token of their approbation.

In the meantime, from anxiety to be made acquainted with what had transpired respecting ourselves, we felt rather impatient and uneasy,—the answer of King Boy to our repeated interrogations having been only ‘plenty of bars!’ the meaning whereof we were grievously puzzled to define. But shortly after the termination of the palàver, how transported were we to hear the last-mentioned individual explain himself in broken English to this effect: ‘In the conversation which I have just had with Obie, I have been induced to offer him the goods which he demands for your ransom, on the faith that they be hereafter repaid me by the master of the brig Thomas, which is now lying in the First Brass River, and that the value of fifteen bars or slaves be added thereto in European goods, and likewise a cask of rum, as a remuneration for the hazard and trouble which I shall inevitably incur in transporting you to Brass. If you consent to these conditions, and on these only I consent to redeem you, you will forthwith give me a bill on Captain Lake for the receipt of articles to the value of thirty-five bars, after which you will be at liberty to leave this place, and go along with me whenever you may think proper, agreeably to the understanding at present existing between Obie and myself.’

This was heavenly news indeed; and we thanked King Boy over and over again for his generosity and nobleness; for we were too much elated at the time to reflect on the exorbitant demands which he had imposed upon us. We immediately gave him a bill on Mr. Lake: indeed there was nothing which we would not have done rather than lose the opportunity of getting down to the sea, which seemed so providentially held out to us. Obie perceived by the great and sudden change in our countenances, the joy which filled our breasts; and having asked us whether we were not pleased with his arrangements, in the fulness of our hearts, he exacted us from us a promise that, on returning to England, we would inform our countrymen that he was a good man, and that we would pay him a visit whenever we should could come again into the country.

When King Boy came for his _book_, I gave it him, and he wished to send it down to the brig, to know if it was good. This I had expected, so I told him that the _book_ would be of no use unless we were sent along with it, and that the Captain would not pay it before he had taken us on board the brig, on which he put it into his pocket-book.

We then bade him farewell, and he took leave of us in a kind and cordial manner.

Fearing that something might yet occur to detain us, and ultimately change the king’s resolution altogether, we were most eager to get out of the reach of him and his people as quickly as possible. Therefore we lost not a moment, but hastened to our lodgings, and having sent our people on board Boy’s canoe, we hurried after them immediately, and embarked at three in the afternoon. And thus terminated four of the most wretched days of our existence. Our own old leaky and shattered canoe we are unable to take with us, as it would detain us very much, from being so heavy to move along; the Damuggoo people will accompany us in their own, and everything is arranged for our departure at an early hour to- morrow.

The Brass canoe, which is now become our dwelling, is extremely large and heavily laden. It is paddled by forty men and boys, in addition to whom there may be about twenty individuals, or more, including a few slaves and ourselves,—so that the number of human beings will amount to at least sixty. Like Obie’s war-canoes, it is furnished with a cannon, which is lashed to the bow, a vast number of cutlasses, and a quantity of grape and other shot, besides powder, flints, &c. It contains a number of large boxes or chests, which are filled with spirituous liquors, cotton, and silk goods, earthenware, and other articles of European and other foreign manufactures; besides abundance of provisions for present consumption, and two thousand yams for the master of a Spanish slaver, which is now lying in Brass river. In this canoe three men might sit with ease abreast of each other, and from the number of people which it contains, and the immense quantity of articles of various descriptions, some idea of its size may be formed. It has been cut out of a solid trunk of a tree, and draws four feet and a half water, being more than fifty feet in length. But it is so deeply laden that not above two inches of the canoe is to be seen above the water’s edge. With its present burden, it would be impossible for her to sail on any river less smooth than the Niger, and even as it is, when it comes to be paddled, there will be danger of its being swamped. It is really laughable to reflect that the canoe is supplied with two immense speaking-trumpets, which, considering the Stentorian lungs of the men of Brass, are entirely superfluous, and that she is commanded by regularly appointed officers, with sounding titles, in imitation of European vessels, such as captain, mate, boatswain, coxswain, &c., besides a cook and his minions. These distinctions are encouraged by King Boy, whose vanity and consequence even in the most trifling concerns is irresistibly diverting. We shall sleep in the canoe to-night, but it is almost unnecessary to say that want of room, as in former cases, will be an intolerable grievance.

Before we embarked, we had taken a little boiled yam with palm-oil at Obie’s house, and we remained two hours lying by the bank. At seven in the evening we settled ourselves for the night, but found that we were exceedingly cramped up from want of room, occasioned by the yams being stowed badly.