University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

In the neighbourhood of Madam L—, was a tenement,
inhahited by an aged African, whose name was Primus.
To him she extended not only her benevolent offices, but
her kind regard. Venerable at once for years and virtues,
he was respected both by the young and old. His
countenance displayed the characteristicks of the country
of his birth; and though his features might war with all
our ideas of beauty, yet their expression caused the eye
to rest on them with complacency. Seldom is matter
more completely modified by mind, than it was in this
case; where the mild eye, beaming love to mankind,
made the beholder forget the jutting forehead, and depressed
nostrils, by which it was encompassed. A gentle,
yet dignified deportment, a politeness which seemed natural
to him, and the white blossoms of the grave, curling
closely around his temples, suffered not materially in their
effect, from the complexion which an African sun had
burnt upon him. It was remarked, by children in the
streets, that no one bowed so low, or turned out their toes
so well as Primus; nor was their reverence for his character

abated, because they found him “guilty of a skin,
not coloured like their own.” Early instructed in reading,
and the principles of religion, he had imbibed an ardent
love for the Scriptures, and stored his memory with a
surprising number of their passages. If the great Selden
merited the name of a “walking dictionary,” Primus
might have been styled a living concordance. At the private
religious meetings, which were occasionally held by
the pious, it was customary, when any text was under discussion,
whose place was doubtful in the memory of the
speaker, to appeal to the venerable African. Then, from
some remote corner, a modest voice would be heard, to
pronounce with precision, respecting the chapter and
verse. This information, which his humility generally
connected with some expression of doubt, was almost invariably
found a “sure word of testimony;” for he had
made the Bible his sole study from his youth, exercising
his memory, not only upon its substance, but upon its links
of connexion and dependance, as the historian clings to
chronology, to systematize the facts, with which his mind
overflows.

Primus had been, for more than half a century, a member
of the Congregational Church in his vicinity. We
might say an ornament also, if the circle of Christian duties,
and spiritual graces, were ever found so unmingled
with imperfection, as to justify such an epithet. At that
most solemn ordinance, appointed by the Saviour to “keep
in remembrance his death till he come,” the devotion, the

humility, the gratitude of this participant could scarcely
escape observation. While he bent over the mysterious
symbols, with an eye now fixed on the earth, now humbly
raised as if in the language of an ancient supplicant, “let
thy servant wash the feet of these servants of my Lord,”
those, who knew the purity of his life, would often utter
mentally,—

His home, which was comfortable, and comprised two
stories, more spacious than usually fall to the lot of Africans
in this country, was provided for him by the family
whom he had served in his youth. They had become
justly attached to him for his excellent qualities, and for
them, he testified the zeal of an old feudal retainer.
Though four-score years had passed over him, he still
preferred supplying his moderate wants by occasional labour
in the gardens of his neighbours, to a dependance on
the industry of his daughter who resided with him. Their
habitation was situated near a ledge of dark, broken rocks;
between whose base and its walls, rose a School-house of
brick, which still remains, though no vestige is left of the
abode of the good African. The noisy inmates of that
seminary of learning used often to pay a passing visit to
Father Primus. He kept a small stock of walnuts for
the good, hence the good were most frequently his guests.
Often would the red tinge in their cheeks fade, and the

dancing blood at their gay hearts be cold for a moment,
while he explained to them the only picture in his habitation,
the tearing of the forty and two children, who mocked
at the bald-headed prophet. The furious deportment
of the two she-bears, the various attitudes of torture and
death in which the victims appeared, and the solemn
enunciation of that old, grey-headed man, made this part
of the bible better understood than others by the breathless
listeners, and impressed on their minds the turpitude
of reviling age and piety, more than the formal instruction
of the pulpit. Sometimes he would indulge them
with the story of his captivity, and many a little bosom
would beat indignantly, and tears would gush from many
a fair eye, at hearing that he was a child like themselves,
when he was torn from his native land to be made a slave.
His narrative, when divested of its vernacular, ran thus:—

“I was born in that part of Africa, which lies between
the Rivers Gambia and Senegal. The king of our tribe
possessed a small territory, about fifty miles from the
western coast. The dwelling of my parents was on a
branch of the river Senegal. Its humble roof was over-shadowed
by lofty palm-trees, and near it grew yams, and
plantains for our food. Orange trees, and shaddocks
were abundant there, and the pine-apple might be seen,
thrusting forth its head like a young cabbage, wherever
we trod. There was war, at the time I was captured, between
our king, and the chief of a neighbouring nation. It
was begun, in order to obtain prisoners to sell to the dealers

in slaves. It is not one of the slightest evils of the
slave-trade, that it kindles war among tribes, who would
otherwise be at peace. The sight of an European sail is
the signal for dissension and robbery, and ere the ship has
arrived at its harbour, cottages have blazed, and blood has
flowed. Those, who were comparatively innocent, are
rendered sinful by those who have more light and knowledge
than themselves, so that the Africans who inhabit the
shores, are worse than those in the interiour, who have
never seen a Christian. Nations, who deal in slaves, have
factors or merchants stationed along the coasts, to instigate
the avaricious and wicked natives to sell their own
countrymen. Thus private robberies, and civil wars add
to the desolations of Africa. The whites, also, sail in vessels,
or boats up the principal rivers, and make victims of
those who may escape the pursuit of their agents. They
sometimes march with considerable force into the country,
and seize whole families, leaving only the sick and the
aged. Alas! they have not always left these, to mourn
the loss of all their race. They have staid to destroy
those lives, which they deemed not worth their capture.
When the English ship arrived which bore me from Africa,
my father was summoned to aid in defending our tribe
against the inroads of a powerful chief. I had attained
the age of ten years, and was left to stay by the bed of a
sick mother. I said to her in my simplicity—

“I see people coming towards us with a white skin, and
their voices have a strange sound.”

“Hide yourself, my son! she hastily exclaimed,
“these are the men who make slaves of us.”

“But, in a moment, their grasp was upon my shoulder.
She shrieked in agony—“Take him not away, he is our
only one. Spare him, he is my all. He is but a child,
what service can he render you? Take me, and leave
him, for when this sickness departs, my hand is stronger
than his. See! I am well already. I will labour for you,
and be your slave; but let him stay to comfort his father.”

“Ere she had finished speaking, they had torn me away.
I gazed back on my dear home, and saw that she had
crept to the door, for she was unable to walk. There she
lay grovelling, following me with her eyes, and filling the
air with incessant screams, while she implored the gods
of Africa to restore her child.

“All that day we travelled, and in the course of it
were joined by large parties of slaves. Muffled, they
were not permitted to speak to each other, but groans
were heard, and tears fell without measure. Chained together,
two and two, they were driven along by the lash
like beasts. At night, when we all lay down to sleep, an
arm, raised as high as its fetters would permit, encircled
me, and I heard the whispered words, “rest your head
on my bosom.”

I knew the voice of my father. But I could not look
up, for my heart was heavier, to find him in that place of
torment. He had been disarmed and sold by the treachery

of his own countrymen, whom he was hazarding his
life to defend. The next day we were put on board the
slave-ship. Here our miseries were increased, to what
seemed at first view insupportable. We were forced between
two low decks, where the grown people could not
stand upright. So crowded were we, that scarcely twenty
inches of space were allotted each in his living coffin.
Our sufferings for want of air, in this confined prison, I
cannot adequately describe. When in bad weather, the
tarpaulin was drawn over the hole whence we received
fresh air, the noise of hundreds drawing their breath as if
in suffocation, was mingled with piercing cries of “kickeraboo!
we die! we die!”

“Every day, except in cases of severe storms, they were
brought on deck to take their dinner, which consisted of
boiled horse-beans, and rice. After this they were compelled
to jump for exercise, as high as their chains would
permit. If they refused, they were punished with the
cat of nine tails; if they complied, the irons on their limbs
caused excoriations of the flesh, and sprains of the joints.
They were ordered to sing also. But only lamentations
were heard, or fragments of songs, broken with sobs,
speaking of the palm-tree shade, and the home of their
fathers. Their thrilling and mournful voices, with whatever
burden they burst forth, ended in the same word,
“Africa! dear Africa!”

“When the short space allotted to breathe the fresh air
had expired, if any testified reluctance to be packed into

their living tombs, they were quickened by the lash.
Yet if I could only be placed, where I might see the face
of my father, I seemed to forget a part of my sorrow.
But at length, as I watched him, tears were continually
lying upon his burning cheek. His head declined upon
his breast, and he forebore to look at me, save with deadly,
despairing eyes.

“A terrible sickness was beginning among the slaves.
The contagion spread rapidly, for those who might have
escaped, were often chained to the diseased, the dying,
and the dead. Numbers were removed to what was called
the hospital. Here they were indeed permitted room
to stretch themselves out, which had been before denied
them. But it was upon rough boards, when the motion of
the ship tore the flesh from their bones. Soon, there were
spaces enough to be seen, but they were reddened with
the blood of the dead who had filled them. Every day,
the plunging of bodies into the ocean was heard, with no
more concern than if beasts were consigned to its depths.
Stern joy sat upon the faces of the sufferers. They complained
not, as they suffocated in the pestilent atmosphere.
They thought that they were escaping their oppressors,
and returning to the home of their ancestors.

My father was among the first victims. I feigned sickness,
that I might be near where he lay. Not a groan
escaped him, though his body was one continued wound.
Constantly panting for air, which was denied him, his

parched lips could scarcely utter an articulate sound.
But as he drew his last, long gasp, he said,—

“Come with me, my son! to the fields of pure light,
where are no white men, no slaves.”

“I was stupid for many days, as one whose mind had
forsaken his body. Yet I escaped the pestilence. So
terrible was it, that out of 800, comparatively few remained.
More attention was paid to the health of the survivors,
as the owners began to fear it would be a losing
voyage. We had now more room, and a less corrupted
atmosphere, and no more deaths occurred save a few of
broken hearts.

“The ship landed her crew in New-York, from whence
a few of the slaves were sent to Connecticut. This state
had not then prohibited their importation; nor has it until
recently decreed, that whoever is born within its jurisdiction,
shall be free.

“My lot was cast in this place, with a kind master who
at his death gave me freedom. I was about his person
and he required no task of me, beyond my years and
strength. He first told me that I had a soul, which must
be forever in heaven or in hell. He taught me to read in
my bible, of the God who had created man, of the Saviour
who died to redeem him. And oh! that knowledge was
worth more to me, than all I had suffered, all I had lost.
Had I continued in Africa, I should have been a worshipper
of idols that cannot save. Ah! what if this short life
were all of it sorrow, if when it endeth, we might carry

with us a hope that can never fail, a glory that can never
die.”

It has been mentioned that this good old African, had
a daughter who resided with him. She was the sole surviving
offspring of a wife who had been many years dead,
and bore no resemblance to her father, either in person or
mind. Without being decidedly vicious, she might be
ranked among those many personages who prove that merit
is not hereditary. Having but little employment at home,
she was by profession both spy and gossip; not that the
union of these departments is peculiar, or monopolized by
females of her colour and station. Seldom was any occurrence
in the household of her neighbours, unknown to her.
The incipient designs of courtship and matrimony were
favourite subjects for her boasted discernment, or malignant
prediction, and it might almost be said of her, that—

She was time-keeper, for all who came within the range
of her acquaintance. No single-lady, who approached
the frontier of desperation, could presume to curtail a
year from the fearful calendar, if Flora were near to
bring her back to the correct computation of her own date.
That portion of the affections, which Nature had introduced
into the system of this wayward dame, were more
liberally bestowed upon animals, than upon her own kind.
Cats were her principal favourites, and wandered around
her precincts, in every shade and diversity of colour.

of the children, from the adjacent temple of science,
were constant as the advances of its fructification. Even
the leaves did not come amiss, as study is known to be a
provocative of appetite. When its drupes began to assume
their crimson tinge, dire were the labours, and sore the
watchings of Flora, between the depredations of the urchins
without, and the cats within. At this season of the
year, her irascible propensities predominated; and many
a little girl has vanished like a frighted bird from the
contested bush; and many a stout boy, with teeth on
edge from the rough acid of the unripe fruit, has lingered
to shout defiance at the threats which assailed him.

Her principal amusement, amid the pressure of avocations
like these, was to trace in the aspect of the sky,
signs of a portending storm. No mariner, whose life balances
upon the cloud, transcended her in this species of
discernment; for she could gather amid the unsullied
brightness of a summer sky, omens of elemental conflict.
Her delight was amid the convulsions of nature, and the
deformities of character. This love of scandal led her
to dread the reproofs of Madam L—, and to avoid
her presence, except when she found it expedient to
solicit some favour. Her father was ever received with
kindness, and even with affection, as a “brother in Christ,
notwithstanding his bonds.” But when she made her visitations
to set forth her poverty, before this benevolent lady,
she invariably received, with her gift, some admonition

Under her clement reign, they waxed fat, and multiplied
exceedingly. At her meals, she was the centre of a circle,
who, with lynx eyes, watched every movement of her
hand to her lips, and with discordant growling, grudged
every morsel which was not bestowed upon them. Sometimes
she might be heard by those who passed ber mansion,
addressing her dependants with every appellation
of fondness; at others, with bitter vituperations; while
their shrill voices, now mingling with her cadence, and
anon leading the concert, gave notice that they were paying
the penalty of some petty larceny on the larder. Frequently
she was seen, issuing from her habitation, her tall,
gaunt form clad in a sky-blue tammy petticoat, partially
concealed from view by a short, faded, scarlet cloak,
bearing a basket of kittens to display their beauty to some
amateur, or put them to service with some rat-infested
householder. Following, with distracted haste, the mother
Grimalkin might be traced, tossing her whiskers, and
uttering piteous moans; occasionally infixing her claws,
in the stiff blue petticoat, that she might thereby climb to
her kidnapped offspring. The bereaved parent would be
either consoled with caresses, or distanced by a blow, as
the caprice of the dame might dictate.

Another object claimed her attention, though in an inferiour
degree. On the utmost limits of the parapet of rock,
which flanked her suburbs, was a solitary barberry-bush,
which possibly she felt bound to patronize, by virtue of
her name, as Goddess of Flowers. To this spot, the visits

whose severity induced her to murmur as she returned to
her dwelling.

“It is well enough, for aught I know, for rich people
to be so mighty good; but poor folks have not had so
much eddecation, and must take the world as they find it.”

Yet she found that punishment invariably attends the
indulgence of unkind feelings, though conscience may
have become too obtuse to administer it. The terrours of
superstition haunted her, and the wakeful hours of night,
were rendered miserable by fears of ghosts and spectres.
No Neapolitan ever believed more firmly in the influence
of an evil eye, than she in the system of witchcraft. The
tragical scenes acted at Salem, in the preceding century,
had been rendered familiar to her, by the pages of a torn
book, which she perused on Sundays, as a substitute for
the bible. All things monstrous, or mysterious were traced
by her to a similar source. The unknown stranger
who had sought refuge in the abode of old Zachary at
Mohegan, was to her a meet subject for explanation dire.
She had no doubt, she was one of that race who held communion
with evil spirits. Her living among Indians was
a sure proof of that. She had heard that when people
were in pursuit of her, she would cast a mist before
their eyes, that they could not discover her. She believed
that at her first arrival, there was a blue flame
and a strong scent of sulphur; and hinted that, if the
“Authority of the Town,” were as strict as they ought to
be, old Zachary would be committed to prison, and the

creature whom nobody knew, tied in a sack, and thrown
into the river, to see if she would sink or swim. Then
lowering her voice, she would assert that other people,
as well as herself, were confident that she was a witch,
for that she had been seen to rise into the air upon a broomstick
so high, that she appeared no larger than a night-hawk.
This mischievous narrator found listeners; for at
that period, low scandal, and the belief in the contracts of
man with evil demons, were popular among the vulgar.
Superstition has since vanished before the sway of superiour
illumination; but slander still thrives on the faults of
mankind. They are still forced into daily circulation,
though not always by those, whom society condemns as
ignorant, worthless, or malignant.