Chapter V: Part 5

At another time she was so much injured that she was left nearly lifeless on the open road, whither she had fled to escape from them; but her unsuccessful efforts increased the rage of her pursuers, and after treating her with the utmost barbarity, they left her. She was found after some time, but so exhausted by the loss of blood that she was unable to walk, and from the effects of that cruelty she did not recover for years. But it may be said of her, that she joyfully bore persecution for Christ's sake.

A man who lived in the same village, being much incensed at the undaunted manner in which she stood forth as a minister of the meek and crucified Saviour, swore that he would beat her severely if ever he found an opportunity. One evening, as she was walking home on a solitary road, she saw this person riding towards her. She knew his intentions, and from his character she did not doubt that he would execute them.

She trembled from head to foot, escape seemed impracticable, and prayer was her only refuge. As he advanced, she observed that his handkerchief fell and was wafted by the wind to a little distance. She picked it up, he stopped his horse, and she handed it to him in a submissive manner; he looked at her fiercely for a moment, when his countenance softened; he took it, saying, "Well, Clarinda," and passed on.

She was not able to read a word till her sixty-sixth year, but she was in the practice of getting persons to read the Holy Scriptures to her, much of which she retained in her memory with remarkable accuracy. By dint of application, she was at length able to read them herself; and those who visited her in advanced life, found her knowledge of the Scriptures, as well as her growth in grace, very surprising.

When she was one hundred years old, and very feeble, she would, if able to get out of bed, on the Sabbath morning, discharge what she thought to be her duty, by conversing with and exhorting both the white and colored people who came to her house, often standing for half an hour at a time. Her zeal was indeed great, and her faith steadfast.

She said she often wished she could write, that she might in this way also express her anxiety for the good of souls. Then she would have described more of the exercises of her mind upon the depravity of man by nature and by practice, with the unbounded and redeeming love and mercy of God through Jesus Christ.

The person who gives the account of Clarinda's death, says, "I was prevented from seeing her often in her last moments; when I did see her she was always the same--her one theme the love of God to poor sinners, which was always her style of speaking. One day, as I sat by her bedside, she said to me, 'Do you think I am a Christian?' 'Yes,' I answered, 'I do believe you are a Christian.' 'I have tried to be,' she replied, 'but now that I suffer in my body, when I think what an unprofitable servant I have been, I am distressed.' She then wept. 'You know,' I said, 'it is not how _much_ we can do, but what we do _sincerely_ for the love of Christ, that is acceptable.' She seemed comforted, and talked as usual.

"She showed me much affection when I left her, saying, 'I shall not live long, my dear ----,' and, adding a few other words, blessed me, and bid me pray for her. She had frequently expressed her fears of the bodily sufferings of death, but not accompanied with a dread of eternal death. I asked her, when she was ill, if she _now_ feared to die. She said 'No; this fear was taken away some time previous to my illness.'"

She requested that her people, as she called them, might continue to meet at her house, but this was not allowed. I am told they sometimes meet elsewhere, and are called "Clarinda's People." When dying, she told those near her to follow her _only_ as she had followed Christ. Her death occurred in 1832. "Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall bring forth fruit in old age."

While perusing this remarkable account of "a brand plucked from the burning," let those who from their earliest years have enjoyed the inestimable privilege of access to the sacred volume, and various other religious means, seriously consider the blessed Saviour's words: "Unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required."

NAIMBANNA.

When the Sierra Leone Company was first settled, they endeavored to bring over to their friendship all the petty African princes in their neighborhood. Among others, they applied to a chief of the name of Naimbanna, who was remarkable for a good disposition and an acute understanding. He easily saw that the intention of the company was friendly to Africa, and entered into amity with them.

They spoke to him about the slave trade, and gave him reasons for wishing to have it abolished. He was convinced of its wickedness, and declared that not one of his subjects should ever go into slavery again. By degrees, they began to talk to him about religion, but he was rather wary on that head. It seems he had formed some prejudices against Christianity.

Finding, however, that the Company's factory contained a very good sort of people, and that they lived happily among themselves, he began to think more favorably of their religion; but he was still backward either in receiving it himself, or in making it the religion of his country. He was well convinced of the barbarous state of his own people, on a comparison with Europeans, and he wished for nothing more than a reformation among them, especially in religion.

But as he found there were several kinds (or forms) of religion in the world, he wished to know which was the best before he introduced either of them. To ascertain this point as well as he could, he took the following method: He sent one of his sons into Turkey, among the Mohammedans; a second into Portugal, among the Papists; and the third he recommended to the Sierra Leone Company, desiring they would send him to England, to be there instructed in the religion of that country.

It appears he meant to be directed by the reports of his sons in the choice of a national religion. Of the two former of these young men, we have no particulars, only that one of them became very vicious. The last mentioned, though I believe the eldest, bore his father's name, Naimbanna. The Sierra Leone Company received the charge of him with great pleasure, believing that nothing could have a better effect in promoting their benevolent schemes, than making him a good Christian.

Young Naimbanna was a perfect African in form, and had the features with which the African face is commonly marked. While he was with the Company, he seemed a well-disposed tractable youth; but when opposed, he was impatient, fierce, and subject to violent passion. In the first ship that sailed he was sent to England, where he arrived in the year 1791.

We may imagine with what astonishment he surveyed every object that came before him: but his curiosity, in prudent hands, became, from the first the medium of useful instruction. During his voyage he acquired some knowledge of the English language; and although he could not speak it with any degree of fluency, he could understand much of what he heard spoken, which greatly facilitated his learning it, when he applied to it in a more regular way.

The difficulty of learning to speak and read being in a great degree subdued, he was put upon the grand point for which he was sent to England--that of being instructed in the Christian religion. The gentlemen to whose care he had been recommended, alternately took him under their protection; and each gave up his whole time to him, faithfully discharging the trust which he had voluntarily, and without any emolument, undertaken.

Naimbanna was first made acquainted with the value of the Bible; the most material parts of the Old Testament, as well as the New, were explained to him. The great necessity of a Saviour, for the sinfulness of man, was pointed out; the end and design of Christianity, its doctrines, its precepts, and its sanctions, were all made intelligible to him. With a clearness of understanding which astonished those who took the care of instructing him, he made those divine truths familiar to his mind. He received the Gospel with joy, and carried it home to his heart as the means of happiness both in this world and the next.

His love for reading the Scriptures, and hearing them read, was such that he never was tired of the exercise. Every other part of learning that he was put upon, as arithmetic, for instance, was heavy work with him, and he soon began to complain of fatigue; but even when he was most fatigued, if he was asked to read in the Bible, he was always ready, and generally expressed his readiness by some emotions of joy.

In short, he considered the Bible as the rule which was to direct his life; and he made a real use of every piece of instruction which he obtained from it. This was evident in all his actions. If his behavior was at any time wrong, and a passage of Scripture was shown to him, which forbade such behavior, whatever it was, he instantly complied with the rule he received. Of this there were many instances.

One related to dress. He had a little vanity about him, was fond of finery, admired it in other people, and was always ready to adorn himself. His kind instructors told him these were childish inclinations; that decency and propriety of dress are pleasing, but that foppery is disgusting. Above all, they told him that the Christian is ordered to be "clothed with humility, and to put on the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit." Such passages, whenever they were suggested to him, checked all the little vanities of his heart, and made him ashamed of what he had just before so eagerly desired.

The irritable passions, where lay his weakest side, were conquered in the same way. His friends once carried him to the House of Commons, to hear a debate on the slave trade, which Colonel Tarlton defended with some warmth. When Naimbanna came out of the house, he exclaimed, with great vehemence and indignation, that he would kill that man wherever he met him; for he told stories of his country. He told people that his countrymen would not work, and that was a great story. His countrymen would work; but Englishmen would not buy work; they would buy only men.

His friends told him that he should not be angry with Colonel Tarlton, for perhaps he had been misinformed, and knew no better. Besides, they told him that, at any rate, he had no right to kill him: for the Almighty says, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." This calmed him in a moment; and he never afterward expressed the least indignation toward Colonel Tarlton; but he would have been ready to show him any friendly office if it had fallen in his way.

At another time, when he saw a drayman using his horse ill, he became enraged, and declared he would get a gun and shoot that fellow directly. But his anger was presently assuaged by this or some similar passage of Scripture: "Be ye angry, and sin not; let not the sun go down upon your wrath." He showed so much tenderness of conscience that he seemed anxious about nothing but to know what his religion required him to do.

When he could determine the rectitude of an action, he set an example even to Christians, by showing that he thought there was no difficulty in the performance. He said his father had ordered him, when he arrived in England, never to drink more at one time than a single glass of wine; and he considered his father's injunction as sacred. On this head, therefore, all the instruction which he wanted was to turn his temperance into a Christian virtue, by practising it with a sincere desire to please God.

In the gay scenes which often presented themselves to his view, he never mixed. His friends were very solicitous to keep him from all dissipation, which might have corrupted the beautiful simplicity of mind that was so characteristic in him. He was fond of riding on horseback, but when he got upon a horse, it was difficult to govern his desire for rapid motion. After remaining in England a year and a half, and being carefully instructed in the Christian religion, he only waited for an opportunity of returning home, which did not occur for five or six months afterward.

In the meantime, two great points were the burden of his thoughts, and gave him much distress. The first related to his father, whose death he heard had happened about a year after he left the country. The principal cause of his solicitude was his uncertainty whether his father had died a Christian. He knew that he had been well disposed toward Christianity, but he had never heard whether he had fully embraced it.

His other difficulty regarded himself. He had now attained the end at which he had aimed. He had been instructed in a religion which he was convinced would promote the happiness of his people if it could be established among them. But how was that to be done? With regard to himself, he had had wise and learned men to instruct him. But what could his abilities do in such a work--especially considering the wild and savage manners of his countrymen? In every light, the greatness of the attempt perplexed him.

With a mind distressed by these difficulties, he took an affectionate leave of his kind friends in England, and embarked for Africa in one of the Company's ships, which was named after him, the Naimbanna. Though he had shown great affection for his own country and relations, yet the kindness which he had received from his friends in England had impressed him strongly; and it was not without a great struggle that he broke away from them at last.

The distress he felt was increased by the society he mixed in at sea--being very different from that which he had left behind. The profligate manners and licentious language of the ship's company shocked him exceedingly. The purity of his mind could not bear it. He had hoped, that in a Christian country he should always find himself among Christians, but he was greatly disappointed.

The company he was in appeared to him as ignorant and uninformed as his own countrymen, and much less innocent in their manners. At length, the oaths and abominable conversation which he continually heard, affected him so much that he complained to the captain of the ship, and desired him to put a stop to so indecent language. The captain endeavored to check it, but with little effect, which gave Naimbanna increased distress.

But still the great burden of his mind, was the difficulty which he foresaw in the attempt to introduce Christianity among his countrymen. Many were the schemes he thought of; but insuperable obstacles seemed to arise on every side. All this perplexity, which his active and generous mind underwent, recoiled upon himself.

His thoughts were continually on the stretch, and this, it was supposed, at length occasioned a fever, which seized him when his voyage was nearly at an end. His malady increasing, it was attended with delirium, which left him only a few lucid intervals. In these, his mind always shone out full of religious hope and patient resignation to the will of God.

In one of these intervals, he told Mr. Graham, a fellow-passenger with whom he was most intimate, that he began to think he should be called away before he had an opportunity to tell his mother of the mercies of God toward him, and of his obligations to the Sierra Leone Company. He then desired him to write his will, which he began in the presence of Captain Wooles and James Cato, a servant that attended Naimbanna.

When Mr. Graham had written a considerable part, as particularly directed, manifesting the feelings and generosity of his heart, Naimbanna complained of fatigue, and said he would finish it after he had taken a little rest. But his fever came on with increased violence, and his delirium scarcely ever left him afterward.

The night after, the vessel, though close to the African coast, durst not attempt to land, as the wind was contrary, and there was danger of running on the Scarries bank. Next morning, though, the wind continued contrary, Mr. Graham went off to the settlement in an open boat to procure medical aid. But when the physician came on board, Naimbanna was just alive; and in that state he was carried to the settlement, the next morning, July 17th, 1793, when the ship came to anchor.

On the first account of his illness, an express was sent to inform his friends at Robanna; and soon after he was landed, his mother, brothers, sisters, and relatives came to the settlement. The distracted looks of his mother, and the wildness of his sisters' grief, affected everyone. His cousin Henry, an ingenuous youth, who stood among them, attracted the attention of all by the solemn sorrow of his countenance, which seemed to discover a heart full of tenderness and woe. In the meantime, the dying youth appeared every moment drawing nearer the close of life.

His voice failing more and more, the little he said was with difficulty understood. Once or twice, those who stood around him caught hold of something like our Saviour's words: "Many are called, but few chosen." About an hour before he died, his voice wholly failed. He was awhile restless and uneasy, till, turning his head on his pillow, he found an easier posture, and lay perfectly quiet.

About seven in the evening of the day on which he was brought on shore, he expired without a groan. When his mother and other relatives found his breath was gone, their shrieks and agonizing cries were distressing beyond measure. Instantly, in a kind of frantic madness, they snatched up his body, hurried it into a canoe, and went off with it to Robanna. Some of the gentlemen of the factory immediately followed in boats, with a coffin.

When the corpse was laid decently into it, Mr. Horne, the clergyman, read the funeral service over it, amid a number of people, and finished with an extempore prayer. The ceremony was conducted with so much solemnity, and performed in so affecting a manner, that the impression was communicated throughout the whole crowd. They drew closer and closer, as Mr. Horne continued to speak; and though they understood not a syllable of what he said, they listened to him with great attention, and bore witness, with every mark of sorrow, to the powers of sympathy.

After the ceremony was over, the gentlemen of the factory retired to their boats, leaving the corpse, as his friend desired, to be buried according to the custom of the country.

ZILPAH MONTJOY.

In the year 1821, died, in the city of New York, an aged woman of color, named Zilpah Montjoy; whose pious circumspect life rendered her an object of peculiar interest to many of her acquaintances; to some of these, whose friendly notice she had experienced, she more than once related the following circumstance:--

Being a slave, inured to hard labor, she was brought up in such extreme ignorance as to have no idea that she was an accountable being--that there was a future state--not even that death was universal, until the sixteenth year of her age, when a girl of her own color dying in the neighborhood, she was permitted to attend the funeral.

The minister's text was, "Man that is born of a woman is of few days and full of trouble: he cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not!" by which and subsequent remarks, she understood that all were to die; that there was a state of existence after death, a preparation for which was necessary while here.

She was much affected, and returned home in great agitation. Revolving these things in her mind for several days, she at length asked her mistress whether she had understood right, that all must die. The reply was, "Go to your work." She continued thus exercised for a considerable time, earnestly desiring to know what she had to do, but had no one to give her instruction.

In this tried state, the Lord was pleased to reveal Himself, and impress on her untaught mind a belief in an omnipotent and omniscient Being, and that His law was written on the heart. Thus, gradually becoming calm and settled, her confidence was made strong in Him, who, hiding His counsels from the wise and prudent in their own eyes, "hath revealed them unto babes." And it is believed she was from that time guarded and careful in her conduct.

She married, and had two daughters, one of whom was taken at an early age, and placed at so great a distance from her that she never saw her after. The other died when about grown, and being also bereaved of her husband, she was very lonely. But under these trials she appears to have been sustained, as was David when he could say, "Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

She was a member of the Methodist Church, and a diligent attender of their meetings as long as her strength permitted. When she was (as near as can be ascertained) about sixty-eight years old, the Clarkson Association for teaching colored women to read and write was established.

And when she received the information, she offered herself as a scholar, but the teachers endeavored to dissuade her, telling her she was too old to begin, as she did not know a letter, and her sight was so impaired as to require two pairs of spectacles; she however urged admittance, stating that her only motive was a desire to be able to read the Bible, and she believed "the Lord would help her," adding, "We are never too old to do good."

And being admitted, she was very diligent in her attendance, and by great perseverance became able to read a little in the New Testament; and one with large print being given her, she prized it very highly, and would frequently open it and read one of the chapters contained in Christ's sermon on the mount, calling it "the blessed chapter."

But notwithstanding her great desire to learn, she did not allow her studies to interfere with her religious engagements; and the time for meeting with her class being fixed on one of the afternoons that the school was taught, it was inconvenient to her; but as the school commenced at three o'clock, and the meeting at four, the hour between she generally spent at the school, staying as long as it would do, and then going as quickly as she could, to be punctual to the time. Sometimes she has been seen running, when she heard the clock strike and found herself a little too late.

She was industrious and frugal, but liberated late in life, she barely procured a subsistence; and for the last two or three years, being nearly past labor, she was dependent on the benevolence of others: but at no time, however destitute and tried, did she lose her confidence in the power of Him "who provideth for the raven his food," often saying at such seasons, "The Lord has been my helper, and I trust in Him." And when any favor was conferred on her, she feelingly expressed her gratitude, yet mostly with reference to the Great Supreme, for giving her friends so kind.

At a certain time, a friend, being unusually thoughtful about her, went to see how she was situated, taking with her a loaf of bread. She found her unable to go out, and without provision; and querying with her, "Zilpah, art thou here alone?" she replied, "No, I am never alone; my Master is with me. When I awake in the night season he talks with me. He has promised to take care of me, and He has done it; He has now sent me that loaf of bread." At another time, she said to a person who visited her, "How good the Lord is; I have always something to eat, for if I take my last morsel, some one comes and brings me more before I want again."

Her understanding failed, so that for several weeks before her death she knew very little; but her conversation was innocent, sometimes saying, "If it is the Lord's will to take me, I am willing to go, but I must wait His time." And He was pleased to release her, after a short confinement, without any apparent disease but the decline of nature, about the seventy-ninth year of her age.

BELINDA LUCAS.

A woman of color, living in Chrystie street, New York, is now, 1825, about one hundred years old. She retains her faculties remarkably well, and she recently gave the following account of herself: "When I was a small child in Africa, being one day at play in the woods, some people came along; one of whom catched me, and throwing me over his shoulder, ran away with me. After he had gone some distance, he put me down and whipped me to make me run.

"When we came to the water, they put me into the ship and carried me to Antigua. Soon after, the captain of a vessel from New York, taking a liking to me, bought me, and brought me here. I was then so little, that I slept sometimes at my mistress's feet. I think there was only one house for worship in the city then; and I remember very well that up Broadway there were only a few small houses; and where the college (in Park Place) stands it was woods.

"I was sold several times, married twice, and had one child that died young. I was baptized in St. Paul's church, not long after it was built; and when I was about forty years old, I bought my freedom for twenty pounds. Not long after I married my last husband, I paid for his freedom, and we went to Charleston. After living there about seven years, he died; and knowing I had many friends and acquaintances in New York, I came back.

"I brought a hundred dollars with me, which I put into the church stock. From that I have received seven dollars every year, and with it I buy my winter firewood. By working early and late, besides my day's work, I earned money, and got a life lease of this spot of ground, and built this house; and in this room" (which is on the first floor) "I have lived many years.

"The upper part I rent; but sometimes the people have been poor, and could not pay me; then I lost it; but these people pay me very well. I have been asked many times to sell it, but I think it is much better for me to stay quietly here than to be moving about: and besides, I let Mr. ---- have fifty dollars, and when he failed, I lost it; and the bad folks have several times taken money out of my chest; and I was afraid, if I did sell, I should lose that also, and then I should be very bad off.

"As I have no relation of my own, when I am gone, and don't want these things any more, they are to be divided among my husband's folks." A person present told her she should have a writing drawn, to tell how they should be divided; saying, "Perhaps they will quarrel about it." She said, "I have told them if they did, them that quarrelled must not have anything."

When asked if she could read, she answered, "Yes; when I was young I learned to spell a little, but I did not know how to put the words together, till I went to the Clarkson school. There I learned to read; and though I can't read all the hard words in the Bible, I can read Matthew and John very well." A representation of the crucifixion of Christ hanging over the chimney-piece, she pointed to it, and explained it very intelligibly, remarking that, "To Mary, who was kneeling near the cross, it was said, 'Woman, behold thy Son,' and to one of those standing by, 'Behold thy Mother.'"

This representation appeared to afford her much interest in contemplating it, though she looked only to the Lord for consolation, and several times, while giving this account, testified of His goodness and mercy to her; saying, "It is the Lord's will that I should be so comfortably provided for. When I was younger, and worked so steadily, the people used to say, 'Belinda, what do you work so hard for, and lay up money? you have no children to take it when you are gone.'

"I did not know then, but the Lord knew that I was to live a great while, and He put it into my heart to do so, and now I have plenty, and trouble nobody for a living. I am unwell this morning, but by and by, when I feel better, I intend to clean up. I used to live very snug and comfortable; I can't get anybody now to put up my things for me so well as I can do it for myself." Her bed had curtains, and appeared to have comfortable covering on it. She had a looking-glass, an arm-chair, a carpet on her floor, and other necessary furniture.

She further said, "When I was able, I went often to see the sick, and the suffering poor, and do something for them, and I sometimes prayed by their bedside;" and added, "I believe the Lord heard my prayers." Placing her hands in an attitude of supplication, and turning her eyes upward, "I often pray now, and I leave it to Him, and He gives me what I pray for. If He thinks it best for me to live longer yet, I am willing to stay; and if He thinks best to take me away, I am ready to go."

On being asked how old she was, she replied, "When Peter Williams was going to Hayti, and he came to see me and bid me farewell, he said, 'Belinda, I have been calculating your age, as near as I can from circumstances, and I believe you are about a hundred years old.' I thought I was older, but I suppose he must be correct.

"I used to work for the rich folks, and they seemed to love me, and treated me very kindly. Mrs. T----, and Mrs. H----, and many others, have been to see me a great many times. Mr. Livingston, the lawyer, who died at Washington, you remember--with his first wife's father, Mr. Kittletas, I lived, and of him I bought my freedom. And when I went to Mr. Livingston's, he would say, 'Why, Belinda, you have a long life of it here.' I would say, 'Yes, master, the Lord knows, but I don't, why I stay so long'--but, dear man, he is gone!"

On being asked why she lived alone, she said, "If I have somebody with me, they will want other company, and that will make more noise than I like. I love to be still; then I can think. And when I am sick, the people up stairs are kind to me, and do what little I want done."

When speaking of reading, she said, "I met with a bad accident lately; I dropped my spectacles in the fire, and it spoiled them: when I can get into the Bowery, to Mr. ----'s store, I can get another pair; but nobody can get them for me--they would not know how to suit my eyes--and then I always pay cash for what I get--I have found it the best way. In all my life long, there has never anybody had the scratch of a pen against me. I have been saving too: them plates there" (pointing to her closet), "I brought them with me from Charleston before Washington's war."

In this unpolished narrative, we see the benefit of acquiring steady habits in early life--of honest, persevering industry--and frugality in the use of what was so obtained. From the one hundred dollars put into church stock, she has in fifty years received three hundred and fifty dollars; and in such a way as to be particularly useful to her. Her pious care of the sick; her quiet, decent, and comely way of living; and her exertions in learning to read, even at the advanced age of eighty years, are also worthy of particular notice.

GUSTAVUS VASSA.

TAKEN FROM HIS NARRATIVE, WRITTEN ABOUT THE YEAR 1787.

"I offer here neither the history of a saint, a hero, nor a tyrant. I believe there are few events in my life, which have not happened to many; but when I compare my lot with that of many of my countrymen, I acknowledge the mercies of Providence in the occurrences that have taken place.

"That part of Africa known by the name of Guinea, to which the trade for slaves is carried on, extends along the coast above 3,400 miles, from Senegal to Angola, and includes a variety of kingdoms. The most considerable of these is Benin, as it respects its extent, wealth, and richness of soil. It is bounded on the sea 170 miles, and its interior seems only terminated by the empire of Abyssinia, near 1,500 miles from its first boundaries.

"In one of the most remote and fertile provinces of this kingdom I was born, in the year 1745. As our country is one where nature is prodigal of her favors, our wants, which are few, are easily supplied. All our industry is turned to the improvement of those blessings, and we are habituated to labor from our early years; and by this means we have no beggars.

"Our houses never exceed one story, and are built of wood, thatched with reeds, and the floors are generally covered with mats. The dress of both sexes consists of a long piece of calico or muslin, wrapped loosely round the body; our beds are also covered with the same kind of cloth; this the women make when they are not engaged in labor with the men. Our tillage is in a large common, and all the people resort thither in a body and unite in the labor.

"My father being a man of rank, had a numerous family; his children consisted of one daughter, and a number of sons, of which I was the youngest. As I generally attended my mother, she took great pains in forming my mind, and training me to exercise. In this way, I grew up to about the eleventh year of my age, when an end was put to my happiness in the following manner:

"One day, when all our people were gone to their work, and only my dear sister and myself were left to watch the house, two men and a woman came, and seizing us both, stopped our mouths that we should not make a noise, and ran off with us into the woods, where they tied our hands, and took us some distance, to a small house, where we stayed that night.

"The next morning, after keeping in the woods some distance, we came to an opening, where we saw some people at work, and I began to cry for assistance; but this made them tie us faster, and again stop our mouths; and they put me into a sack until we had got out of sight of these people. When they offered us food we could not eat. Often bathing each other in tears, our only respite was sleep; but alas! even the privilege of weeping together was soon denied us. While enclosed in each other's arms we were torn asunder, and I was left in a state of distress not to be described.

"After travelling a great distance, suffering many hardships, and being sold several times, one evening my dear sister was brought to the same house. We were both so overcome that we could not speak for some time, but clung to each other and wept. And when the people were told that we were brother and sister, they indulged us with being together; and one of the men at night lay between us, and allowed us to hold each other's hand across him.

"This comfort, small as it may appear to some, was not so to us: but it was of short duration; when morning came, we were again separated, and I never saw her more. I remember the happiness of our childish sports, the indulgence of maternal affection; and fear that her lot would be still harder than mine, fixed her image so indelibly on my mind, that neither prosperity nor adversity has ever erased it.

"I once attempted to run away; but when I had got into the woods, and night came on, I became alarmed with the idea of being devoured by wild beasts, and with trembling steps, and a sad heart, I returned to my master's house, and laid down in his fireplace, where I was found in the morning. Being closely reprimanded by my master, he ordered me to be taken care of, and I was soon sold again. I then travelled through a very fertile country, where I saw cocoa-nuts and sugar-cane.

"All the people I had hitherto seen, resembled my own; and having learned a little of several languages, I could understand them pretty well; but now, after six or seven months had passed away, from the time I was kidnapped, I arrived at the sea-coast, and I beheld that element which before I had no idea of. It also made me acquainted with such cruelties as I can never reflect upon but with horror. The first object that met my sight was a _slave ship_ riding at anchor, _waiting for her cargo_!

"When I was taken on board, being roughly handled and closely examined by these men, whose complexion and language differed so much from any I had seen or heard before, I apprehended I had got into a world of bad spirits, which so overcame me that I fainted and fell. When I came to, their horrible looks and red faces frightened me again exceedingly. But I had not time to think much about it, before I was, with many of my poor country people, put under deck in a loathsome and horrible place. In this situation we wished for death, and sometimes refused to eat, and for this we were beaten.

"After enduring more hardships than I can relate, we arrived at Barbadoes, in the West Indies. When taken on shore, we were put into a pen like so many beasts, and thence sold and separated--husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters, without any distinction. Their cries excited some compassion in the hearts of those who were capable of feeling, but others seemed to feel no remorse, though the scene was so affecting.

"I, with some others, was sent to America: when we arrived in Virginia, we were also sold and separated. Not long after, Captain Pascal, coming to my master's, purchased me, and sent me on board his ship, called the Industrious Bee. I had not yet learned much of the English language, so I could not understand their conversation; and some of them made me believe I was going home to Africa. This pleased me very much, and the kind treatment I received made me happy; but when we came in sight of England, I found they had deceived me. It was on board this ship I received the name of Gustavus Vassa.

"Having often seen my master, and a lad named Richard Baker, who was very kind to me, reading in books, I had a desire to do so, that I might find out how all things had a beginning. For that purpose, I often took a book, talked to it, and then placed it to my ear to hear what it would say; but when I found it remained silent, I was much concerned.

"The summer of 1757, I was taken by a press-gang, and carried on board a man-of-war. After passing about a year in this service, on the coast of France and in America, on my return to England, I received much kindness, and was sent to school, where I learned to read and write. My master receiving the office of lieutenant on board one of those ships, took me with him up the Mediterranean. My desire for learning induced some of my shipmates to instruct me, so that I could read the Bible; and one of them, a sober man, explained many passages to me.

"As I had now served my master faithfully several years, and his kindness had given me hopes that he would grant my freedom when we arrived in England, I ventured to tell him so; but he was offended, for he had determined on sending me to the West Indies. Accordingly, at the close of the year 1762, finding a vessel bound thither, he took me on board, and gave me in charge of the captain.

"I endeavored to expostulate with him, by telling him he had received my wages and all my prize money, but it was to no purpose. Taking my only coat from my back, he went off in his boat. I followed them with aching eyes, and a heart ready to burst with grief, until they were out of sight. The captain, whose name was Doran, treated me very kindly, but we had a tempestuous voyage.

"When we came in sight of Montserrat, remembering what I had seen on my first arrival from Africa, it chilled me to the heart, and brought nothing to my view but misery, stripes, and chains: and to complete my distress, two of the sailors robbed me of about eight guineas, which I had collected by doing little jobs on board the ships of war, and which I hid when my master took my coat.

"Having unladed the ship, and laded her again for sea, the captain sent for me: when, with trembling steps and a faltering heart, I came to him. I found him sitting with Robert King, a Quaker, and a merchant: and after telling me the charge he had to get me a good master, he said he had got me one of the best on the island. Mr. King also said he had bought me on account of my good character (to maintain which I found to be of great importance), and that his home was in Philadelphia, where he expected soon to go, and he did not intend to treat me hard.

"He asked me what I could do. I answered, I can shave and dress hair pretty well; and that I have learned to refine wines; I could write, and understood arithmetic as far as the Rule of Three. The character Captain Doran had given of my master, I found to be correct. He possessed an amiable disposition, and was very charitable and humane.

"In passing about the island, I had an opportunity of seeing the dreadful usage, and wretched situation of the poor slaves; and it reconciled me to my condition, and made me thankful for being placed with so kind a master. He was several times offered a great price for me, but he would not sell me. Having obtained three pence, I began a little trade, and soon gained a dollar, then more; with this I bought me a Bible.

"Going in a vessel of my master's to Georgia and Charleston, a small venture I took on my return answered a very good purpose. In 1765, my master prepared for going to Philadelphia. With his crediting me for some articles, and the little stock of my own, I laid in considerable, which elated me much; and I told him I hoped I should soon obtain enough to purchase my freedom, which he promised me I should have when I could pay him what he gave for me.

"Between Montserrat and several ports in America we made many trips. One circumstance occurred when I was in Georgia that was a serious one to me. Being in a yard with some slaves one evening, their master coming home drunk, and seeing me, a stranger, he, with a stout man to help him, beat me so that I could not go aboard the ship, which gave the captain much anxiety. When he found me, and saw the situation I was in, he wept; but by his kind attention, and that of a skilful physician, I was in a few weeks able to go on board and attend to my business.

"Thus, passing from one port to another, with my kind master's and captain's indulgence, and my own indefatigable industry and economy, I obtained the sum required for my liberty. So, one morning, while they were at breakfast, I ventured to remind my master of what he had promised, and to tell him I had got the money--at which he seemed surprised. The captain told him I had come honestly by it, and he must now fulfil his promise.

"Upon which he told me to get a manumission drawn, and he would sign it. At this intelligence my heart leaped for joy. When the whole was finished, and I was in reality free, I felt like another being--my joy was indescribable. My master and Captain Doran entreated me not to leave them, and gratitude induced me to stay, though I longed to see Captain Pascal, and let him know I was _free_.

"I now hired as a sailor, and our next voyage was to Savannah. When we were preparing to return, and were taking some cattle on board, one of them butted the captain in the breast, which affected him so that he was unable to do duty, and he died before we reached our port. This was a heavy stroke to me, for he had been my true friend, and I loved him as a father.

"The winter following, I sailed again for Georgia, with a new captain, in the Nancy: but steering a more westerly course than usual, we soon got on the Bahama banks, where our vessel was wrecked, but no lives were lost. Getting on one of the islands, with some salt provision we had saved, we remained there many days, and suffered much for want of fresh water.

"When we were almost famished with hunger and thirst, we were found and carried to New Providence, where we were kindly treated. Thence we were taken to Savannah, so to Martinico and Montserrat, having been absent about six months, and experienced the delivering hand of Providence more than once, when all human means seemed hopeless.

"After relating to Mr. King the loss of the Nancy, and the various hardships we had endured, I again told him my desire to go to England; and although he wished me to remain in his service, he consented, and gave me the following certificate:--'The bearer hereof, Gustavus Vassa, was my slave upward of three years; during which time he always behaved himself well, and discharged his duty with honesty and assiduity.--R. KING.'

"Obtaining this certificate, I soon parted with my kind master, and arrived in England. When I here received my wages, I had thirty-seven guineas. I soon found my old captain, Pascal, who was surprised to see me, and asked how I came back. I told him, 'In a ship.' To which he replied, 'I suppose you did not _walk_ on the _water_.'

"I now set my mind on getting more learning, and attending school diligently. My money not being sufficient, I hired myself to service a while; but having a desire to go again to the Mediterranean, I engaged on board a ship, where the mate taught me navigation. While at Smyrna, I saw many caravans from India. Among other articles, they brought great quantities of locusts, and a kind of pulse resembling French beans, though larger; they are sweet and palatable.

"In the spring of 1773, an expedition was fitted out to explore a northwest passage to India. Dr. Irving concluding to go, I accompanied him, and we went on board one of the vessels the 24th of May; and about the middle of June, by the use of the doctor's apparatus for making salt water fresh, we distilled from twenty-six to forty gallons a day. On the 28th we reached Greenland, where I found the sun did not set.

"We found large fields of ice, and to one of them, about eighty yards thick, we made our vessel fast: but we soon became so surrounded with ice that we could not move, and were in danger of being crushed to pieces. In this perilous situation we remained eleven days, when the weather becoming more mild, and the wind changing, the ice gave way, and in about thirty hours, with hard labor, we got into open water, to our great joy, and arrived at Deptford, after an absence of four months, wherein we had experienced imminent dangers.

"Rejoicing to be again in England, I entered into service, and remained a considerable time; during which I began to reflect seriously on the many dangers I had escaped, particularly in my last voyage, and it made a serious impression on my mind; and my reflections were often turned to the awfulness of eternity.

"In this state, I took to my Bible, rejoicing that I could read it for myself, and I received encouragement. While my mind was thus seriously impressed, I went several voyages to Spain, and being often led to look over the occurrences of my past life, I saw there had been the hand of Providence to guide and protect me, though I knew it not; and when I considered my obligations to the Lord for His goodness, I wept.

"On our return, the last voyage, we picked up eleven Portuguese. Their vessel had sunk, with two of the crew, and they were in a small open boat, without victuals, compass, water, or anything else, and must soon have perished. As soon as they got on board our vessel, they fell on their knees and thanked God for their deliverance. Thus I saw verified what was written in the 107th Psalm.

"From the year 1777 to 1784, I remained more quiet; but about the latter period I made a trip to New York, and one to Philadelphia. At the latter place, I was very much pleased to see the worthy Quakers easing the burdens of my oppressed countrymen. It also rejoiced my heart when one of these people took me to the free school, and I saw the children of my color instructed, and their minds cultivated to fit them for usefulness.

"Not long after my return, I found government was preparing to make a settlement of free people of color on the coast of Africa, and that vessels were engaged to carry such as wished to go to Sierra Leone. I engaged as commissary, and we set sail with 426 persons. But the time of our arrival there, the rainy season having commenced, proved unfavorable, and some of us soon returned to England; where, since that period, I have been doing what I could for the relief of my much-injured country people.

"Having been early taught to look for the hand of God in minute circumstances, they have been of consequence to me; and aiming at simple truth in relating the incidents of my life, I hope some of my readers will gather instruction from them."

Gregorie, in his Inquiry into the Intellectual and Moral Faculties of the Negroes, states, that after thirty years of a wandering and stormy life, Vassa established himself in London, where he married, and published his memoirs, which have been several times reprinted--the last edition in 1794; and it is proved by the most respectable testimony that he was the author. In 1789, he presented a petition to parliament for the suppression of the slave trade.

He also says, that a son of his, named Sancho, having received a good education, was an assistant librarian to Sir Joseph Banks, and secretary to the committee for vaccination. And he concludes with this remark: "If Vassa still lived, the bill which was lately passed, prohibiting the slave trade, would be consoling to his heart, and to his old age."

BILLY AND JENNY.