 | CHAPTER V.
THE PLANTING OF THE NATION. Liberia ; or, Mr. Peyton's experiments |  |
5. CHAPTER V.
THE PLANTING OF THE NATION.
Of nations yet to be;
The first low wash of waves where soon
Shall roll a human sea.
Whittier.
The truth of Machiavelli's maxim, that “to
make a servile people free, is as difficult as to make
a free people slaves,” had often occurred to Mr.
Peyton's mind, while recalling the results of his experiments,
yet without disheartening him; for between
difficulty and impossibility is a great difference,
and he knew that few objects of any importance
can be attained without labor and disappointment.
In the month of December, 1816, he went to
Washington on business. He had intended to return
by Christmas-day, and his family knew that
he had arranged his affairs so that they need not
prevent him, yet he wrote that he was detained
by business of importance, and that for the first
time in his life he could not pass that season, so
He reached home for New-year's day, and when
the children at last consented to be carried off to
bed, and the older members of the family were left to
talk in quiet, Mr. Peyton, addressing his sister, said,
“At last, Margaret, I have a plan to propose to
you, which I think even you, with all your practical
wisdom and cool judgment, must approve. You
objected to my making my servants free, for you
said that, whether they were nominally bond or free,
or whether they lived at the North or the South,
the colored people held, in reality, the position of
slaves; and that as long as this was the case, they
had better have the protection and assistance which
the relation of master should, and often does, give
to them. We will not discuss that matter now, but
what do you say to placing them in an isolated and
independent position, where they can develop themselves,
free from the presence and overshadowing
superiority of the white race.”
“If they can govern themselves, which is yet to
be proved,” replied Margaret, “that would be the
best course to take. I would like to see it fairly
tried, though I confess I am not sanguine as to its
success.”
“Several of our wisest statesmen and philanthropists
have been engaged in forming such a plan,”
was caused by my desire to assist as far as I could
in carrying it out; for the more I thought about it,
the more did the grandeur and simplicity of the
design strike me, and the more did I feel persuaded
of its practicability and ultimate success.”
“How is the idea to be carried out?” asked Margaret.
“I will read you part of the constitution adopted
by a society at which I was present, where Henry
Clay presided, and, with John Randolph and Elias
B. Caldwell, spoke eloquently and ably in favor of
this object.
“Article I.—A society shall be formed, and called
the American Colonization Society, for colonizing the
free people of color of the United States.
“Article II.—The object to which its attention
shall be exclusively directed is, to promote and execute
a plan for colonizing, with their consent, the
free people of color residing in our country, in Africa,
or such other place as Congress shall see fit.
And the society shall act, to effect this object, in
co-operation with the general government, and such
of the states as may adopt regulations upon the
subject. Hon. Bushrod Washington has been chosen
the president of the society.”
“It is certainly a great idea; I hope it may prove
a successful one,” said Margaret.
“Many of those who go out to Africa, where I
think a suitable location will be found for them,
will not only receive a benefit themselves from the
change, but act as missionaries to the heathen
around them. Even when they do not teach them
directly, which perhaps in many cases is hardly to
be expected, the silent influence of their regular and
Christian mode of life must produce a great effect.
If I were to tell the hopes and expectations that fill
my heart when I think upon this subject, I should
be regarded as an enthusiast.”
“Are there any of your own servants that could
be induced to try the experiment?” asked Mrs. Fairfax.
“I have been thinking that it would be the very
place for Junius,” replied Mr. Peyton. “I will speak
to him about it to-morrow.”
“He needs some encouragement,” said Virginia.
“Nathan told me a few days ago that Junius was
going to give up studying, for it only made him unhappy,
and come and help his father on the farm.
Nathan seemed a good deal troubled about it, for
Junius has always been his pride.”
Junius listened with evident pleasure to Mr. Peyton's
account of the formation of the Colonization
Society and its purposes. Accustomed to reverence
his master as a person of superior wisdom and goodness,
his sympathies were readily enlisted in favor
He went over to the farm to talk with his father
about it. Nathan, naturally averse to change and
unenterprising, considerably damped his son's zeal
by the discouraging manner with which he made his
comments on the untried enterprise. His wife, too,
did not at all like the idea of emigrating to an unknown
and heathen country with her six children;
and Junius, who had come full of warmth and ardor,
found himself in a little while quite overpowered
by the opposition he met with.
At last he proposed an adjournment to Keziah's
cabin, that they might hear her opinion. It was a
still, cold, starlight night, and as they approached
they heard her voice, reading with great emphasis
and feeling.
“Stop a minute,” said Sally; “let's yer if dat
ain't `Sinners, turn—why will ye die?”'
They stopped to listen, and found that Sally was
right.
“She reads dat yer hymn to Polydore every
night,” continued Sally; “it was de fust ting dat
struck her heart, and she tinks it will 'fect him, if
any ting will.”
“Ain't uncle Polydore a Christian?” asked Junius.
“Bless you, honey, yes, dese many years; but
else, because he will go to sleep in church, and he
takes it all as meek as a lamb; but he is a good
man, fo' true, if any body is.”
When they opened the cabin door, they found
Keziah sitting upright in a rocking-chair, which had
been her first purchase for herself, and reading by
the light of a blazing fire of pine wood. Polydore
was gazing mildly and sleepily upon her, endeavoring,
hopelessly, to take in the full meaning of a hymn
he had heard till he knew it by heart, with a patient
wonder at his own want of feeling in being so
little moved by it.
As soon as Keziah comprehended the plan which
Junius explained to her, she entered into it with all
her heart.
“It is the very place for me,” exclaimed she; “I
would go there to-morrow if I could.”
“Oh, Keziah, don't say so; if you only knew what
I know 'bout Africa, you would never want to see it
again,” said Polydore, wide awake for once. “Don't
go, Keziah, please do, don't. I would rather die dan
go.”
“Nobody said any thin' about your goin',” retorted
Keziah; “stay here, if you want to, and be a nigger
all your life; but I thinks defferently.”
Polydore made no answer to this unkind speech,
but sat brooding in silence for some time, while the
last he broke forth in a history of his early years.
For the first time in his life he was almost eloquent,
while relating, in his broken language, all that he
had seen and suffered.
He spoke of the devil-man, a frightful figure that
came out of a thicket near his native village, and
frightened every one by his terrible howlings. The
death of some one, by the ordeal of gedu or sassy-water,
a poisonous opiate made from the bark of the
sassy-tree, often followed the appearance of this figure,
in consequence of having been accused by it of
being a witch. Polydore's father fell a victim to this
practice. He had been out, in company with many
of the other fighting men of his tribe, to procure
slaves to carry down to some slave-ships that were
waiting for a cargo; they returned with a train
of captives; but in the skirmishes, the head man
had been slightly wounded. From some cause his
wound did not heal, and he died in consequence.
A cry of witchcraft was immediately raised, and
Polydore's father was pointed out as the suspected
person; the trial by sassy-water proving unfavorable,
he was compelled to drink more till he died.
Polydore mentioned many other of their cruel
customs, and said at last that, not long after his
father's death, the whole village was roused one
night by a savage yell. As the startled inhabitants
they saw that they were now the victims of that
fate they had so often brought upon others. Resistance
was useless, for they were completely surrounded
by their savage enemies. Chained or tied
together, Polydore being fastened to a half-grown
boy about his own size, they were forced to march
for many days until they reached the sea-shore.
Meantime, they had been joined by several other
bands of captives, nearly all of whom had been
obtained in the same way.
Two ships, lying just off the coast, explained
the cause of the sudden fury that seemed to have
seized the people in that part of Africa; and Polydore
was quite relieved when he saw them, for he
had been dreading sharing the fate of the many prisoners
whom he had seen killed for various purposes.
Of the horrors of the barracoon, where they were
pent up together before they embarked on board
the ships, or of the still greater horrors of the
“middle passage,” where, closely packed, and allowed
“less room than a man has in his coffin,”
they suffered from hunger, thirst, and every misery
that the most ingenious tormentor could devise,
nothing need be said, though Polydore dwelt long
upon them. Then he told how he was landed and
sold at Cuba. His first purchaser had given a
pound of tobacco for him. His second purchaser
that it seemed impossible he should live.
After a few months, he was carried to Texas and
resold for quite a high price. From there he was
smuggled into Louisiana, but, falling into bad
hands, Mr. Peyton, the father of the present owner
of Cedar Hill, had bought him from motives of
compassion; and, three years after leaving Africa,
he found himself on a plantation in Virginia, and
“better off,” said he, “dan I ever was befo'; I is
taught 'bout Jesus and my heavenly Mas'r. I no
fear de debbil in de bus', no fear de slave-catchers,
no fear any body, but has every ting safe and comfable.
And now, Keziah, I tink I be mighty fool
to leave all dese tings. But if you go, I go too.
You's an unprotected single womin, and I can't see
you go alone.”
“Hush! shut up with yer single womin. I's
worth two of you any day,” replied Keziah.
“Dese arms is wort' somethin', Keziah,” said
Polydore, stretching out limbs that might have
rivaled Samson's.
“De arms is good enough,” replied Keziah, scornfully,
yet not without a certain degree of admiration
in her look, which strength, either of body or
mind, always extorted from her, “but what's de
good of strong arms when de heart is a coward's?”
“You are just de hardest womin I ever came
you I was a goin', and what mo' could I say?”
“But you didn't say it with your whole heart,
and de Lord don't 'cept no unwillin' offerin's.”
“I wasn't tinking of making an offerin' of myself,”
said Polydore, resentfully; “only to you,
Keziah,” he added, in a softer tone.
Keziah pretended to pass over in silent disdain
the last few words, but they did not fail to make
an impression on her long-besieged heart. Its defenses
were fast giving way; yet, showing no outward
sign of the weakness within, she replied,
“Dat won't do at all, Polydore; we must make
up our minds to be missionaries, and do de Lord's
work as well as our own. We has been greatly
blessed 'bove our poor heathen brethren, in havin'
learned here how to fight de good fight, and gain
de heavenly crown. And when we go 'mong de
savages, and dey come to visit us, as dey will mos'
likely” — Polydore groaned — “we can tell dem
'bout de blessed Savior, and teach 'em to lay down
dem wicked habits you's jus' been tellin' us of.”
Another groan.—“'Fact,” continued Keziah, warming
up, “I wouldn't be a bit afraid to go and live
right among 'em, if I tought I could do dem any
good dat way.”
“Don't talk so, Keziah, do, don't,” said Polydore,
boseechingly, “you don't know what dey is.”
“Ain't dey our broders and sisters?” asked Keziah.
“If dey is broders, I never want to see no broders
while I live,” said Polydore; “but don't talk any
more 'bout it, please. I's willin' to go. I's willin'
to be a offerin', or any ting else to please you, for I
has hung about you too long to change now; but I
doesn't feel much heart about it, and dat is de
truth.”
Keziah's warm approbation revived Junius's zeal,
and Nathan caught a little of her ardor, and agreed
that, if he could look upon the matter in the same
light that she did, he would be ready to embark in
the first ship.
The idea of living in a land where they would
enjoy the blessings of equality as well as freedom,
once suggested to them, it soon became their guiding
thought and desire. The higher the class of
mind to which the proposal was made, the more
eagerly was it received and the more warmly cherished.
Keziah was a lover of freedom from instinct
and nature rather than reflection. While a slave,
as long as she was treated like one, she had rebelled
almost to death; when brought under kinder
influences, and while yielding, from gratitude and
affection, the most entire devotion, the Peytons could
not help perceiving that the more she was allowed to
consider the service one of free will, the more heartily
the gift of personal liberty; and now the prospect
of a home, where the overshadowing influence of the
white man would not be felt, destroying every hope
of self-elevation, and almost paralyzing the wish,
was welcomed as a gift from Heaven.
Nathan had a slower, calmer mind, and was more
inclined to consider the difficulties and objections,
“the lions in the way,” than Keziah. For that
reason, perhaps, his judgment was more to be relied
on when he had once come to a decision. But Keziah's
warmth and firmness of purpose was of great
use in awakening his naturally sluggish feelings,
and in preventing his interest from flagging in any
subject that occupied them both.
Emigration to Africa was their topic of conversation
whenever they met, which was at least once
a day. Polydore listened in a meek but troubled
silence, which ought to have touched their hearts,
but was totally without effect. Sometimes he
groaned and shook his head; occasionally he broke
forth into an “I's willin'!” but that came seldomer.
However sound asleep he might be, he woke up at
the word Africa, as if it were a charm, and his eyes
would grow rounder and rounder, and his thoughts
more and more confused, as the idea of all the great
things they intended to do in that land of terror
was held up before him.
Mr. Peyton sent Junius to Richmond to transact
a little business for him, and there he met Lott
Cary, whose history should be related, not only for
its own intrinsic merit, but to show what the African
is capable of becoming even now, when weighed
down by so many and so great disadvantages. If
he succeeded in growing to such a perfect stature in
mind and heart, what may not be expected from
those who are allowed to develop themselves under
more favorable auspices.
He was born a slave near Richmond, Virginia, in
1780. His parents endeavored to train up Lott,
their only child, in the fear of God; but early hired
out as a common laborer in Richmond, he was
thrown into companionship with profane and intemperate
persons, who led him into vicious habits.
While in the midst of his irreligious course, his attention
was suddenly arrested by the powerful appeals
of a Baptist exhorter. Overwhelmed by a
sense of his sinfulness, he resolved to devote himself
henceforth to the service of God, and in 1807 he
joined the Baptist Church.
Soon after his conversion, hearing a sermon which
related to our Savior's interview with Nicodemus,
a strong desire to be able to read the passage for
himself was awakened in his mind. With no regular
instruction and but little assistance, he soon accomplished
this, and succeeded also in learning how
to write.
His next wish was to become a freeman. He
was employed at that time in a large tobacco
warehouse, where, by his usefulness and honesty,
he had acquired the confidence of the merchants,
who frequently rewarded him for his fidelity by
giving him small sums of money. In 1813, he
found himself the possessor of eight hundred and
fifty dollars, with which he ransomed himself and
his two children, his wife having died a little while
before.
He was afterward employed in the same warehouse
at a salary of eight hundred dollars a year.
Of the real value of his services there, it has been
remarked no one but a dealer in tobacco can form
an idea. Notwithstanding the hundreds of hogsheads
that were committed to his charge, he could
produce any one the instant it was called for; and
the shipments were made with promptness and
correctness, such as no person, white or black, has
equaled in the same situation. While employed in
the warehouse, he devoted his leisure time to reading
and self-improvement.
He early began to feel a special interest in
African missions, and contributed probably more
than any other person in giving origin and character
to the African Missionary Society, established
in Richmond in 1815, and which, for many years,
appropriated annually to the cause of Christianity
fifty dollars. His benevolence was practical; whenever
and wherever good objects were to be effected,
he was ready to lend his aid.
For several years he preached on almost every
Sunday among the colored people on the plantations
around Richmond. Some one has remarked about
him that, “in preaching, notwithstanding his grammatical
inaccuracies, he was often truly eloquent.
He had derived almost nothing from the schools,
and his manner was, of course, unpolished; but
his ideas would sometimes burst upon you in their
native solemnity, and awaken deeper feelings than
the more polished but less original and inartificial
discourse.”
During the latter part of his residence in Richmond,
in addition to his weekly duties, he sustained
the office of pastor of a Baptist church of colored
persons in Richmond, embracing nearly eight hundred
members, and received from it a liberal support,
and enjoyed its confidence and affection.
Yet so clearly did he see the glorious prospect
opened to his race by the colonization movement,
that, from the earliest commencement, he watched
it with anxious and hopeful earnestness, and declared
his willingness to lay down all his present
advantages to become a pioneer, and, if necessary,
a martyr in the cause. When a clergyman of his
leave a station of so much comfort and usefulness,
to encounter the dangers of an African climate,
and hazard every thing to plant a colony on a distant
heathen shore, he replied, “I am an African;
and in this country, however meritorious my conduct
and respectable my character, I can not receive
the credit due to either. I wish to go to a country
where I shall be estimated by my merits, not by
my complexion; and I feel bound to labor for my
suffering race.”
A heart thus burning with love toward its brethren,
and a desire to do them good, must affect with
somewhat of the same zeal all kindred hearts that
come within the sphere of its influence. Junius
returned from his journey to Richmond fully decided
to devote the rest of his life to carrying the
Gospel of Christ to the dark regions of Africa. He
found Keziah also more and more bent on leaving
a country where the sense of her degraded position
had always been a heavy burden to her.
But Nathan still shrank from the untried experiment,
and it was at last decided that Keziah, Polydore,
and Junius should go out among the first
emigrants, and if their report were favorable, Nathan,
with his wife and the rest of his family, should
follow.
The departure of kindred could hardly have caused
of the determination of the three, who
had made up their minds to sail in the first ship
for Africa. Philip Fairfax was especially busy,
and by his care Polydore's chest was crowded with
every thing that the wildest imagination could suggest
as possibly useful or necessary in their probable
situation. It was well that some one had took it
upon himself to attend to Polydore, otherwise he
would have fared but badly, as he never seemed to
think it even possible that he might need any thing,
but sat, when not attending to some errand for
Keziah, with his head resting on his hands and
his elbows on his knees, absorbed in melancholy
thought, or lost in slumber.
On their way to New York, from which city they
were to embark, they spent the Sabbath in Richmond,
and heard Lott Cary preach his farewell sermon
in the First Baptist Meeting-house in Richmond.
It was a striking one, and when he concluded
by saying, “I am about to leave you, and
expect to see your faces no more; I long to preach
to the poor Africans the way of life and salvation;
I don't know what may befall me, whether I may
find a grave in the ocean, or among the savage men,
or more savage wild beasts on the coast of Africa;
nor am I anxious what may become of me: I feel
it my duty to go; and I very much fear that many
blush when the Savior calls them to give an account
of their labors in his cause, and tells them, `I commanded
you to go into all the world, and preach
the Gospel to every creature;' the Savior may ask,
`Where have you been? what have you been doing?
have you endeavored, to the utmost of your
ability, to fulfill the commands I gave you, or have
you sought your own gratification and your own
ease, regardless of my commands?”' many felt their
hearts touched and moved by the solemn appeal.
They left New York in January, 1820, and arrived
safely, after a short delay at Sierra Leone, at
Sherbro, an island on the western coast of Africa,
which the agents sent out by the society—Samuel
J. Mills and Ebenezer Burgess—had made arrangements
for purchasing from the natives.
The first week or two after the landing of “the
pilgrims,” for so might the greater part of them be
considered, the change from shipboard to the palm
groves and genial climate of their fatherland was
very pleasant indeed. Polydore, to whom Keziah
had held up almost daily, during the voyage, Lot's
wife as a warning, an example to be shunned, fell
back so readily into the habits of his childhood, that
the danger now appeared to be that he would forget
all that he had learned of civilization, and become
once more an indolent, self-indulgent savage.
All kinds of food—fowls, goats, and fish—were
brought in abundance by the curious natives, and
could be obtained for a trifle. The most delicious
fruits—oranges, lemons, pine-apples, guavas, and
many others whose names Polydore did not remember,
though in taste and appearance they were perfectly
familiar to him—grew in great profusion
around their new home.
However, but a short time was given them for
rest and enjoyment. The Island of Sherbro was
low and unhealthy, and while Mr. Bacon, the government
agent, was endeavoring to induce the kings
of the neighboring country to make a formal surrender
of the land according to their promise to Mr.
Mills, he was seized with a burning fever. Almost
at the same time, twenty-five of the emigrants were
prostrated by the same disease; and soon after, Mr.
Bankson, the other agent, the physician, the lieutenant
of the ship, and all the crew, were attacked
by African fever in its most violent form. Mr. Bacon
struggled as long as he was able against his
own illness, that he might aid the rest. He was
particularly anxious to obtain for those under his
care a healthier home. But all his exertions were
vain. The chiefs had become cold and suspicious,
and the natives, who had at first crowded round
them in amicable curiosity, had evidently become
jealous and unfriendly.
The colonists could not understand the reason of
this change for some time. It arose in a great
measure from the representations of the slave-traders,
who have been the chief, though often the secret
enemy of that settlement, which, with a foresight
quickened by their interest, they saw from
the first, was to prove a greater obstacle to their
nefarious trade than any number of ships or armed
men. The kings along that part of the coast derived
a great part of their income from the traffic
in slaves. Of course, they could be easily influenced
by the traders, not only to withhold all encouragement
from those who were to cut off their
chief source of revenue, but to proceed to open opposition.
But while the emigrants were in this
state of utter weakness, He, who is pitiful and of
tender mercy, withheld the hand of their enemy,
that the blow might not fall till they had gathered
strength to resist it.
Mr. Bacon's exertions for obtaining a more salubrious
location were in vain. Death came upon
him while he was “working in the field,” and with
him Mr. Bankson, Dr. Crozer, Lieutenant Townsend,
twenty emigrants, and all the boat's crew,
sank beneath the malignancy of the climate, or
rather, as experience has since proved, from the
want of a knowledge of its peculiarities, and from
no proper shelter or comforts having been prepared.
Only sixty-six emigrants remained. Some of
these mourned over their situation, thus abandoned,
as they thought, to certain death, and were inclined
to look back regretfully toward the land they had
left. These were the faint-hearted ones, among
whom neither Lott Cary nor Keziah could be placed.
They both remained firm and full of hope, and their
example had no slight effect in encouraging the rest.
Polydore was more easily disheartened. Some excess
in eating fruit had brought upon him a severe
attack of fever a second time, and, although he recovered,
greatly to his own surprise, he could not
be induced afterward to acknowledge that any thing
but evil could spring from so hazardous a movement.
All the leaders thus speedily taken away, the
agency and the care of the colony was intrusted to
the Rev. Daniel Coker, a colored clergyman of the
Episcopal Church. Thrown thus into a situation
of such responsibility, with the sick, the dying, and
the dead around him, with the charge of the property
and interests of the colonists, he found time
not only to fulfill faithfully those duties, but also to
attend to “his Father's business,” and he commenced
a course of instruction to the natives. In
a letter written in this time of trouble and discouragement,
he said,
“We have met with trials; we are but a handful;
our provisions are running low; we are in a
America, and know not whether more provisions or
people will be sent out; yet, thank the Lord, my
confidence is strong in the veracity of his promises.
Tell my brethren to come; fear not—this land is
good; it only wants men to possess it. I have opened
a little Sabbath-school for native children. O,
it would do your hearts good to see the little naked
sons of Africa around me. Tell the colored people
to come up to the help of the Lord. Let nothing
discourage the society or the colored people.”
The hope and trust expressed in this simple yet
resolute letter were not disappointed. No sooner
was it known in America that there were vacant
posts waiting to be filled in that country, then regarded
as lying under the shadow of death, than devoted
men offered themselves as ready for the duty.
Four of these were selected, and sent out as agents,
one of whom was the brother of the Mr. Bacon who
had already fallen a sacrifice.
They were welcomed with great joy by the colonists.
Finding that Sherbro was so unsuitable a
place for a settlement, they accepted the offer, which
the governor of Sierra Leone had kindly made them,
of a home at Fourra Bay until they could provide a
better one for themselves. The colonists were soon
removed there; and although this delay was a great
disappointment to Keziah, and troubled her more
she had left Virginia, yet her active and practically
useful mind prevented her from being contented to
spend the time thus given to her in idle waiting.
She busied herself in teaching any native children,
who would attend to her, the various little arts of
civilized life which they could most readily understand,
and soon found herself surrounded by quite
a number of pupils, who, although they came and
went as they pleased, yet gave in a short time such
evident tokens of improvement, that Keziah could
not help thinking it was for some good purpose she
had thus been forced to cease from active exertion
on her own account.
Junius went on missionary excursions into the
country around, and sometimes, penetrating far into
the interior, returned with wonderful accounts of
the beauty and fertility of the country, and the barbaric
pomp and power of the chiefs.
Meanwhile the agents were exploring the coast,
seeking a better location. Lying about three hundred
miles southeast of Sierra Leone was a high
point of land called Cape Mesurado. Its position
made it healthy, and the good harbor near it rendered
it desirable. Another consideration made it
still more of an object to obtain possession of it for
their own purposes. It belonged to King Peter, a
warlike and powerful prince, who was deeply engaged
cape, above and below, were noted barracoons, or
places where the native Africans were kept crowded
together, waiting the arrival of some slaver. To
make a Christian settlement in the midst of these
dark places of the earth would be one great step toward
their destruction.
But King Peter refused to receive the agents, and
returned their presents. Seeing that there were no
hopes of an interview, they prosecuted their search
still farther, and had selected a place that they
thought favorable, when two of them sank under
the effects of exposure to the climate, still too unfamiliar
a one for them to judge what course they
ought to pursue when first thrown into it.
Mr. Bacon was obliged to return home, and again
the colony was left without a leader. But they did
not remain long in this condition. The vacant post
was soon filled by Dr. Eli Ayres, of Philadelphia.
We extract, with little alteration, from “The New
Republic” (an excellent little history of Liberia), the
following account of the purchase of Cape Mesurado:
“Soon after the arrival of Dr. Ayres at Sierra
Leone, Captain Stockton, of the war-ship Alligator,
came on the coast, bearing instructions from the
American government to co-operate with the agents
of the Colonization Society in securing a suitable
territory for the settlement of the emigrants. Dr.
agency along the coast. On the eleventh of
December they came to anchor in Mesurado Bay.
“`That is the spot we ought to have,' said Captain
Stockton, pointing to the high bluff off Cape
Mesurado, as they stood together on the quarterdeck;
`that should be the site of our colony—no
finer spot on all the coast.'
“`Then we must have it,' answered Dr. Ayres.
The resolution was a bold one. England and France
had been trying for it for one hundred years without
success; the interview with Andrus and Bacon,
six months before, was positively refused, and even
their gifts scornfully sent back by King Peter.
Though well aware of the ill success of every previous
attempt at a negotiation, and the uncompromising
hostility of the natives to any thing bearing
the semblance of a white settlement, these resolute
men did not mean to sail tamely or timidly by without
making an effort, or at least inquiry; and every
new aspect of the coast only strengthened their desires
to obtain possession of it. They determined to
land. Some headmen met them on the shore, to
whom they gave suitable presents; and upon entering
into a friendly conversation, it was soon clear
that a favorable impression had been made upon
their minds. They expressed a desire to see King
Peter. Messenger after messenger was sent to beg
he had disappointed and deceived them again and
again, that he consented to an interview, and then
only on the condition that they should dare to meet
him in his own capital, far into the interior. To
accomplish this, they must leave the coast, wade
through water and mud, cut through dismal jungles,
and in an enemy's country, surrounded on all
sides by savages, whose fiercest passions had been
nursed by the slave-trade, and who cared not a straw
for human life. They must go armed to the teeth,
and even then expect at any moment robbery and
death.
“Could they dare visit King Peter at such hazards?
Could they brave the lion in his den? Yes,
they could dare any thing in the prosecution of a
great and worthy enterprise.
“`We will go!' was the resolute answer. In order
to convince the natives that their object was a
peaceful one, they determined to go unarmed, with
the exception of a small pair of pocket pistols, which
Captain Stockton usually wore in his coat. Wild
beasts, and savages armed with muskets, roamed
through the forests; but they reached the capital in
safety, where groups of naked barbarians came out
to meet them, gaping with wonder. Having been
conducted to the Palaver Hall, which was spread
with mats for their reception, a headman came forward
arrival of his majesty. When the king entered, he
took no notice of the strangers, but went to the farthest
corner of the hut, where he sat down, with an
angry frown upon his brow and a glance of defiance
in his eye.
“On being introduced by one of the chiefs, he
asked, in a surly tone, what they wanted, and what
business they had in his dominions. The plan of
the colonists was carefully and minutely explained,
all about which he well knew, having been informed
of the object of Mr. Andrus's visit several months
before, and more recently, through his headmen,
of its contemplated renewal by Captain Stockton
and Dr. Ayres. Meanwhile large bodies of the natives
began to darken around them; but every thing
wore a peaceable aspect, until, on the entrance of a
fresh band, an unusal excitement began to agitate
the crowd. Affairs looked dark and threatening.
Captain Stockton arose and took his seat near the
king. Presently a mulatto rushed forward, and,
doubling up his fist, charged Captain Stockton with
capturing slave vessels. `This is a man trying to
ruin the slave-trade!' he cried, in a loud and angry
tone.
“`These are the people who are quarreling at
Sherbro!' shouted another.
“A horrid war-yell broke from the multitude;
upon the agents. Captain Stockton, fully conscious
of the extreme peril of their position, instantly arose,
and drawing out one of his pistols, pointed it at the
head of the king, while, raising his other hand to
heaven, he solemnly appealed to the God of heaven
for protection in this fearful crisis. King Peter
flinched before the calm courage of the white man,
and the barbarians fell flat on their faces at the apparent
danger of their chief. The captain then
withdrew his pistol; their savage rage was hushed;
awed and subdued by his fearless energy, some
crept away, while their chiefs began to listen with
respect to the advances and proposals now made to
them.
“Success crowned their efforts. After two or
three palavers, the king consented to sell a tract of
land to the colonists. A copy of the contract entered
into upon this occasion may not be uninteresting.
“Know all men, that this contract, made on the
15th day of December, 1821, between King Peter,
King George, King Zoda, King Long Peter, their
princes and headmen on the one part, and Captain
Robert Stockton and Dr. Eli Ayres on the other,
witnesseth: that whereas certain persons, citizens
of the United States of America, are desirous of establishing
themselves on the western coast of Africa,
and have invested Captain Robert Stockton and
from us (here follows a description of the land),
we, being fully convinced of the pacific and just
views of said citizens, and being desirous to reciprocate
their friendship, do hereby, in consideration
of so much paid in hand—namely: 6 muskets, 1 box
of beads, 2 hogsheads of tobacco, 1 cask of gunpowder,
6 bars of iron, 10 iron pots, 1 dozen knives and
forks, 1 dozen spoons, 6 pieces of blue baft, 4 hats,
3 coats, 3 pairs of shoes, 1 box pipes, 1 keg nails, 3
looking-glasses, 3 pieces of kerchiefs, 3 pieces of calico,
3 canes, 4 umbrellas, 1 box soap, 1 barrel rum;
and to be paid the following: 6 bars of iron, 1 box
beads, 50 knives, 20 looking-glasses, 10 iron pots,
12 guns, 3 barrels of gunpowder, 1 dozen plates,
1 dozen knives and forks, 20 hats, 5 casks of beef,
5 barrels of pork, 10 barrels of biscuit, 12 decanters,
12 glass tumblers, and 50 shoes—forever cede and
relinquish the above-described lands to Robert
Stockton and Eli Ayres, to have and to hold said
premises for the use of said citizens of America.
“King Peter, ╳ his mark.
“King George, ╳ his mark.
“King Zoda, ╳ his mark.
“King Long Peter, ╳ his mark.
“King Governor, ╳ his mark.
“King Jimmy, ╳ his mark.
“Capt. Robert Stockton.
“Eli Ayres, M.D.”
Having now, by the courage and energy of these
two commissioners, obtained one of the finest and
healthiest parts of the coast for their own, possessing
a good harbor and a fertile soil, the emigrants removed
from Fourra Bay to it as soon as possible.
Keziah's heart was filled with delight when she first
landed at her new home; and to all the colonists, the
prospect of a safe and pleasant abiding-place, after a
season of so much uncertainty and long delay, was
delightful. It was with feelings of hope and exultation,
which time has already proved to have been
true presentiments, that on the twenty-fifth of April,
1822, the American flag was hoisted on Cape Mesurado.
Some time afterward the place received the name
of Liberia, as indicating its true character, “the
home of the free.” Like England, Liberia can
boast that “no slave can breathe its air.”
| CHAPTER V.
THE PLANTING OF THE NATION. Liberia ; or, Mr. Peyton's experiments | |