CLXII.
On board U. S. War Steamer Sumpter, St. Paul de Loando, April 14, 1860.
I was transferred from the war steamer Mystic, and presented to the officers of the Sumpter, from whom I have received the kindest evidences of hospitality. Captain McDonough offered me his table and cabin, and Lieutenant Stewart, and his brother officers, of the wardroom mess, always make me a welcome guest. A tourist is scarcely ever found on this benighted coast, and for that reason I am well treated. It is only when I find myself out of the way of all civilized lines of communication, that I am willing to trouble either our own officers, or those of foreign governments; but necessity has obliged me to sail under the flags of several.
We met the British war steamer Falmouth, which took the American brig Jehosse, and afterwards released her, the captain abandoned her, as I wrote you, and came in pursuit of an American man-of-war. Lieutenant Stewart came on board to verify the certificates which Captain Fitzroy gave Captain Vincent, who is now with us. He and his officers admitted their signatures. The documents will be sent to the United States, copies having already been forwarded for diplomatic action.
We met the sloop-of-war Marion, Captain Brent, and passed a few hours on board of her, as pleasantly as circumstances would permit, after the disappointment the officers had experienced in not receiving instructions to return home after a two years’ cruise. They expected confidently such orders by the mail we brought down. Fortunately for me, instead of being transferred to a small schooner at the Congo River for this port, the Sumpter was ordered here for supplies at the naval station.
At the Gaboon, a French settlement, they have their barracoons for free labor, which is slavery under another form, and which the English and Americans dare not interfere with. The negroes are enlisted for a term of years, under the payment of a certain sum for service, in the islands of Martinique and Guadaloupe. They are shipped legitimately, and not packed as with slavers, who are forced to watch their opportunity, and escape with as many as possible, without regard to breathing space or supplies of water. The negroes shipped are either slaves already, or pawned for debt, and made to say they are willing—and probably escape much worse bondage than they would in their native country. They certainly do, if they are treated as our negroes in the southern states.
Our ship overhauled recently an American brig, with slave deck laid; but her papers were in order. The captain at first sent a lieutenant and men on board of her, and was going to send her to the United States as a prize, no doubt being entertained of the intention of running off a cargo; but upon reflection and advice, he abandoned the project. If she was not condemned at home, the owners would come upon the captain for all the damages, and his private funds would be taken to pay for it. The government does not assume the responsibility. If commanders do their duty, they must put their property out of their hands, and have nothing to lose. They can then take suspicious vessels and send them to the United States—but they may have judgments hanging over them all their lives. It is an undisputed fact, that the slave trade is carried on by American vessels mostly, and to the shame of our northern and New England states, whence come the constant cries against the South. A ship which I once made a passage in to Havre, has been fitted out as a whaler, with all the appliances, for the purpose, without doubt, as a decoy, and instead of catching the black whales, they intend to capture another kind of animal of the same color. Her papers are all in order. Captain Goudon, of the new war steamer Mohican, whom I visited on this station, boarded her. She is just out from the United States, and is in suspicious waters, where there are no whales. His excuse is, they wanted some fresh water. She can take a thousand negroes, and is here under the garb of a whaler; but no American officer dare take her without the negroes on board, unless he is made liable for personal damages. The whole thing is a farce. If our government was honest in the suppression of the slave trade, and would take the responsibility of loss in case of failure of confiscation, the trade would soon be lessened.
We have a squadron of four vessels now on the African coast, and three are off active duty. The flag ship is at Madeira, the Portsmouth has just started for that place, and I met the San Jacinto at Teneriffe, going to Cadiz for repairs.
We are expending large sums to keep up a squadron of eighty guns, according to the Ashburton Treaty, and are hunting up the game for the English to bag. They watch and wait, and have their spies; and when the vessels are filled they seize them. The captain, under threat of being handed over to an American man-of-war, and tried for piracy, makes a bargain for his life and the lives of his crew, probably saving some property, hauls down his flag and throws his papers overboard. The Englishman gets his bounty money, and turns over the negroes for colonists for seven years, which probably often means life.
The bay of Loando is deep and tolerably broad; the water close to town is shallow from the washing of the high clay banks, which extend along the coast, and form the upper town. This is the oldest settlement (Portuguese) along the coast, and I notice some old dates, of the year 1600. The slave trade built it up. The Brazil markets were supplied from here. Some fifty thousand were supplied annually. That has ceased, and the town and country become commercial. The soil in the interior is fertile, and produces excellent coffee, which rivals the Mocha in quality. There is a Governor-General, a custom-house, police and military force. The lower town is very sandy and hot. The negro population is large. Slavery continues, but will expire by limitation in ten years. Fever prevails to a considerable extent; the only safeguard is, to sleep on shipboard. No hotels or restaurants are to be found. The merchants who have vessels trading with the United States, Portugal, and other countries, have as large and comfortable houses as possible, and frequently invite friends to their table. The English have a consul and adjudicator for condemned vessels.
The American Consul is connected with a business firm in Salem, who have trading vessels and factories on the coast. At Quecimbo, a bartering point along shore, we found four factories, or bungalows, English, Dutch, and American. They are constructed of reed and palm, large, light, and airy, inclosing courts or yards by picket-worked fences, and there they are without protection from the natives, other than a few fire-arms. An important event occurred there a few days before our visit. A Congo prince, who had been educated in Portugal, wishing to make some reform in the negro administration of matters, was pursued, and took refuge in the English factory. He was demanded by the natives, who surrounded the establishment in thousands. Finding that the building would be sacrificed and given up to pillage, he gave himself up, and was killed within thirty feet, his body cut in pieces, and scattered about. We were surrounded by a group of these black, dirty, and naked subjects—two were called princes, but the only distinction was they wore a sort of cap, while others disdain every covering but the wool.